Feather in the Wind
by AfricanChieftess
Summary: Set in high school :: Nathan is still struggling to understand how something so horrible happened. He's preparing to live a life without Haley...and so the story begins.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the first in a series of stories I'm writing about Nathan, Haley and Jamie.**

**Disclaimer: all creative rights to the One Tree Hill characters belong to their original creator(s)! **

**I also denounce ownership of all copyrighted songs and lyrics used in this story.**

* * *

The darkness has become my friend, my comforter, my tormentor, my refuge.

In the dark, I'm free to think about her without acting a dreary role in a play. In the dark, I can cry for her without people looking at me with judgment or pity.

She's everywhere.

I can't get her out of my head. I honestly can't.

In my waking thoughts, in my dreams at my feeble attempt to sleep, when I wake up...Every breath I take she is there.

There are eighty-six thousand and four hundred seconds in a day and I think of her on every single one of them. I'm not kidding. If you have ever had your heart broken, then you know what I'm talking about.

My mind is constantly filled with echoes of her; her smile, her laugh, the crinkles in her eyes whenever she smiled, the smell of her hair, the pout of her mouth when I didn't want to go along with something she said, the way her mouth tightened when I annoyed her, her loud sarcastic laugh when something someone said deserved it.

I'd give my right shooting arm to have her angry at me right now, to just see her yelling at me for forgetting to do something.

I'd give one of my kidneys to share a kiss with her, to feel her small arms around my neck, to hear her say that she loved me one more time.

I'd give anything.

I feel as though someone has punched me in the chest, ripped my heart out while I watched them do it, leaving a gaping hole where my soul used to be.

I have developed a zombie-like existence. I've not been entirely aware of what I'm doing but I've been doing it. Like on auto-pilot.

Some things are requiring too much of an effort. Food, for instance. I haven't been eating right and it's reflecting. I look sick. Like I'm in the first stages of fighting some disease doctors have no name for. I'm no doctor but I may be dehydrated, too.

I look like shit, and only one thing is keeping me awake and present right now.

My heart lies with her. My heart died the moment she left me.

She. My reason to be.

Not basketball. Her. Haley James Scott.

My wife, who I buried four weeks ago.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm sure you're curious about what happened to her. I'm just not ready to talk about it.

I promise to tell you, but right now I'm not ready.

I'm grateful that you're here, though. I need to talk to someone. Not a shrink, not a family member or a friend. Strangers can sometimes be the best confidants.

I haven't been ready to talk about it with anyone because saying it out loud makes it more real.

God knows how many times I've made a stop at Denialville. How can I not when the reality of Haley being gone is much worse than the theory of a thousand needles in my body?

I _know_ I've had bouts of denial in the past couple of weeks, but I'm trying to accept it. It's just so fucking hard.

Sometimes when the ache is so bad, I get physically spent from all the panic when I think that the love of my life, my soul mate, the girl I would do anything for, is gone.

It's been four weeks since she died. Four weeks that feel like four hundred years since. . . .since we buried her. My love, my life, my better half.

I haven't ever been the sappy sort. Ever.

I'm the kind of guy who would find it stupid when any of my friends told me that they were in love.

I'm the kind of guy who heard things like 'soul mate' and had the urge to throw up.

I'm the kind of guy who did not date. My M.O. was finding someone to scratch an itch when I needed it. Nothing more.

After I met Haley, it all made sense. The songs about falling in love made a lot of sense, because when it came to her, I could spew out all the romantic clichés since and before Shakespeare without thinking twice about it.

She's like an obsession, a drug that I no longer have in supply. And now I'm left with the withdrawal symptoms; the shakes, the temper, the desire, the depression, the loss of appetite. It's fucking insane.

There's that burning in my chest again. I'm unsure whether it's a heart attack, a panic attack or my grief. Whatever it is, it's always there, just waiting to explode.

I'm only eighteen and already a widower. It's a fucking nightmare is what it is. My life has barely begun, and the person I was looking forward to growing together with is gone.

Life has never seemed like such a lengthy pointless road like it does these days.

I could try to put into words how I feel, but I don't think I could get it right. The dull, throbbing pain in my heart is a constant ache, a constant reminder of the one person who meant the world to me.

I feel numb to the core. Alcohol might help me forget for a while but I won't go down that road. If I do, I won't stop. I swear to you I haven't touched a drop of alcohol. I can't. And I won't.

Can I confess something else to you? Sometimes I'm afraid of sleeping.

If you've had night terrors, then you know what I'm talking about.

Where most people look forward to the night to get their forty winks, I dread it. I dread it because she'll be there in my dreams. And I know I'll crave for her so fucking bad when I wake up that it will make me physically ill from the headache and the heaviness of heart.

Hang on a minute. I hear crying.

That's my son. Our son, Haley's and I.

Are you surprised? I'm an eighteen-year-old widower with an infant. How's that for madness?

He's five-and-a-half months old, but I think he can tell that his mother is not here anymore. It must be because when I try to soothe him to sleep, his cries don't recede easily.

With impeccable timing, he would wake up crying most nights at 3.12AM. And every time, Haley would go to him and carry him to the living room, where I'd be waiting. We'd sit on the couch, Jamie in the crook of her arms as she fed and sang to him.

I looked forward to 3.12AM every day.

These last few weeks, no matter how hard I've tried, I really can't help my son enough at 3.12AM.


	3. Chapter 3

James Lucas Scott.

Born at seven pounds and one ounce, screamed like a banshee, and wasn't even tall enough to touch the crook of my elbow.

He was named James for Haley's maiden name and Lucas for her best friend, my brother.

He is the only reason I'm functioning, barely at that; the only light at the end of my dark tunnel of thoughts.

Jamie, we think, was conceived the first night Haley and I spent together after she came back from the tour. It seems so long ago when we took that walk to the beach, that night before the start of summer…

I remember we talked, I remember we argued, I remember we got angry, I remember we talked some more…and somehow between all that angry talking, we forgave. For those few hours in that secluded corner of the beach, it was like how it used to be between us.

We began to take things slow after numerous weeks of no contact, unreciprocated communication and terse conversations. But then I left.

Like a frightened child, I took off to Florida for High Flyers; I could have pulled out of the camp and spent the summer in Tree Hill with her but I was running away. Running scared. Scared of what could happen between us had I stayed in Tree Hill, scared that we were moving too fast.

I could have called her every free minute I had but I was too much of a wuss, calling only late at night when I was sure she was about to sleep. But Haley didn't give up on us…

She wrote me letters, she sent me postcards and emails, telling me that she was sorry, that she missed me, that she loved me. And I, like the fucking cowards I was, couldn't seem to get past that fear I felt.

Everything eventually caught up with me. I can't remember how exactly it happened, but in one breath I was running down the court, thinking about how much easier it would be if I could stop being such an asshole, and in the next I was missing her so much that my body just slowed down.

I stopped, thinking about her smile and her laugh and her beautiful face…I wanted to run to Tree Hill to see her.

Instead, I waited. Restlessly.

Strangely enough, we had that weekend free from camp, so I decided to surprise her. There was no question about where I was spending my time that weekend.

She was the first person I wanted to see when I landed. But she wasn't at her house.

I searched for her in her favourite haunts; the café, the docks, the park, the River Court. I finally found her in the public library working on an assigned book for fall. If you knew Haley, you would have found her studiousness weird. She was crazy about books, and I found it fascinating how serious she took her studies. And she seemed to enjoy it!

There she was at the table beside the first floor window, tapping the end of her pen on her cheek, her brows furrowed as she concentrated on the book in front of her, the sunshine creating a halo over her head.

I wanted to shout that I loved her from where I stood but I chose not to say a word, approaching her slowly as if in a daze. She looked up, her eyes widening to saucer-size, the movement of the pen stilling as if she was frozen. It took a couple of kisses to get her to relax,

I apologized for shutting her out, for being the cowardly jackass my dad accused me of being. And over and over, I told her I loved her, meaning it more every time I said it.

The following morning, she walked up to me. She was looking quite pale and wiping at her lips with the back of her hand, and before I could ask her what was wrong, she just said, "Nathan. I'm pregnant."

I choked on my cereal. I swear I did. Only after a long fit of coughing, struggling to swallow the cereal stuck in my windpipe and her rubbing my back did it occur to me what was happening.

_"I'm pregnant"_ isn't something any teenager wants to hear. Even a married one.

She'd only known for a couple of days and wanted to tell me in person rather than over the phone or in a letter.

But holy shit, was I terrified.

When I told her that it would be okay, I was terrified. When we hugged and kissed at the airport before I flew back to Florida, I was terrified. When I called her every day, I was terrified. In my dreams, I was terrified.

I was terrified of turning out to be like Dan, I was terrified I would screw up my child, I was terrified that I would be more of a bully than a father like my dad was to me.

Carrying that terror, I couldn't seem to focus on my game at camp. I just dropped out of High Flyers and came home, wanting to be there for Hales and for our baby, wanting to make things easier for her.

She was furious with me for not sticking it out at High Flyers, telling me repeatedly that I was being inconsiderate of my dreams by coming home. I didn't know what she was going on about but I didn't care about High Flyers; she was more important to me and I didn't want to be anywhere else but with her.

That terror in me seemed to rear its ugly head a lot because we tended to fight constantly about the choices we'd have to make, especially about college and the future. Once, we had a pretty heated argument about what to settle for dinner between Chinese and Italian, which left Haley crying and cussing me out. Hales was pretty hormonal, her moods flipping like a switch, and just between you and me, it was more amusing than anything, really.

With a baby, where we wanted to go to college made things less black and white. She wanted to go to Stanford and I wanted to go to Duke. I think I was just complicating matters; family should come first. My wife and our baby should have come first. So when the time came, we both applied to Duke and Stanford.

While we sat in the waiting room for her first checkup, as I looked at the other women in their various stages of pregnancy, the idiot in me realized that Haley was more terrified than me. I got off easy: she was the one going to be carrying the baby to term. I grew an extra set of balls; she needed me to tell her that it would be okay, and from then on, I made myself believe it.

Her parents were off cruising the country in their RV immediately after Haley and I got married, her siblings were scattered in different states, but Haley didn't complain about how she felt abandoned by her family.

Haley and I were each other's family, but I know she missed her parents. I'm grateful they agreed to us marrying at sixteen, but there were times that my in-laws made me furious.

I mean, it would have been nice for her mom to reassure her teenage daughter about pregnancy, right? All Haley got was phone calls. And the occasional postcard.

My mom stepped in when Haley's pregnancy fears kicked in. Like when she was unwilling to use escalators at the mall for fear of falling, or when she thought her cravings for some things were bad for the baby.

No matter how much I assured her that the baby books didn't mention anything like that, she felt better hearing it from someone who had already been there. Couldn't blame her; my assurances were all theoretical.

I had moved back in with my parents after Haley left for the tour. Being alone in that apartment drove me fucking crazy, I drank like a fish and I was very close to hurting myself. I actually did end up hurting myself by driving into a wall.

Haley wasn't on the tour for more than a month but I was so torn up when she left that in some way, I was looking to feel something other than the pain. After that racetrack accident, after I realized that I was heading down a dangerous path, I packed up or sold everything we owned, leaving her things in storage, and gave up the apartment.

Mostly, I moved back home for my mom. I wanted to be there for her before things went too far. Thing is, my psycho dad and devil extraordinaire, Dan Scott, had driven her to drink and pop pills like they were going out of style. When they finally divorced, he moved to Raleigh, and my mom went to rehab.

It was such an ugly divorce. He's pushy and arrogant, and he likes playing mind games with people. All my life, he had been manipulative and insulting, pushing me every chance he got, to the point where I took steroids. Only when I passed out on the court did I realize just how much damage being my father's son had done to me.

I'm honestly surprised that he hasn't shown up demanding to see Jamie. Like fucking hell I would let him poison my son with his presence.

Talking about that sack of shit riles me up so I'll just stop right there.

Where was I? Right. The doctor's.

When I saw the ultrasound of our baby on the monitor, I swear something flashed before my eyes. Not the-end-of-my-life-as-I-knew-it passing me by, but a flash of the life we would have.

Despite the whole tour business, right then, I knew what I wanted. I wanted her. I wanted our baby.

Later that day, I went by Luke's house for her and she moved back in with me. With us. My mom was out of rehab and for fear of her relapsing on her part and mine, I wanted to stick around. Haley didn't mind, and we figured we'd get a babysitter for free. I'm kidding. Not really. But really, I'm kidding. Trusting my mom took a while and I was skeptical about leaving our baby in her care.

But baby or no baby, Haley and I would have lived together again eventually. I mean, going home without her every day after seeing her in school when she came back from the tour had been killing me on the inside.

Seeing the way people in school treated her just because she'd gone after her dreams…I missed her, but I dared not show it. I was just scared to have faith in us and I was scared that things wouldn't work out again. I was just scared for far too long.

Jamie was my miracle.

The moment I laid my eyes on him, his pink flushed skin, his tiny fingers and hands, his small mouth and round cheeks…Nothing else mattered.

I may have been scared out of my fucking mind about raising him, but damned if I was going to turn out like my father. He deserves better, and so did his mother.

He was so beautiful, his tiny fingers curled into fists, his even tinier nose a miniature version of Haley's, his small body fitting in my arms just right.

He deserved the best from me.

* * *

Right now it's 3.18AM, and I'm shushing Jamie as I walk downstairs to the kitchen.

The house is so quiet that his cries are bouncing and echoing around us. I don't like to see him cry these days, because I know that look will be there for some time before I'm able to make it go away.

When his bottle is warm enough, I head to the living room and take the loveseat. His eyes are full of tears and he's flailing his chubby little arms around. I wipe at his cheeks with my knuckles, softly speaking to him until his crying lowers a decibel.

"It's okay, Jame. Daddy's here."

I reach for the side table and press PLAY on the CD player. I've not changed the disc since the last time I put it in.

As soon as her voice comes on, Jamie's cries recede.

_"Hush little baby don't say a word…"_

It makes me a little sad that I don't have the same effect on him.

I wrap the blanket tighter around him and touch the rubber nipple of the bottle to his lips. He grows quieter, until all I can hear from him are suckling noises and a few whimpers.

She made this CD especially for him. She'd made it in good fun, telling me that it was "insurance", in case she developed laryngitis and couldn't sing to Jamie. Was it a sign of the imminent doom?

I feel a lump in my throat. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. We were meant to raise Jamie together. We were meant to be together always and forever, not for two years. She sometimes teased me about us being eighty and toothless, with me constantly reminding her to take her medication as I adjusted my hearing aids.

Jamie's big blue eyes are open, and he's looking at me as if in deep concentration.

I rub his knuckles with my finger, smiling down at him. He's such a sweet baby; I think he has Haley's good heart.

"Hi, buddy."

He blinks, and then closes his eyes.

I'd completely forgotten about the CD and for the first few days after she. . . .

I spent hours trying to get Jamie to sleep. Old school hip-hop didn't work, even if it did the first few weeks after he was born. And my singing voice is not that pretty; it can be equaled to the sound of a dying pig or a laughing hyena.

I've been switching between her studio music and the lullabies. All I can do for him when it comes to her is play the music. It's been helping, but I wish it were the real thing.

He's asleep by the time the second lullaby is winding up. I carry him back to his crib, ensuring that the baby monitor is on. I may be having erratic sleep patterns but I don't want to miss hearing him when he's up.

He really is a beautiful child. I wish I could show you a picture.

* * *

I haven't listened to this one since. . . . since she died. I still can't say the words without hesitating.

It was Haley's mix for me, a compilation of songs that reminded her of me.

Track one is easily my favourite. I begged her to sing for me after a shitty day dealing with my dad and I swear after listening to her, I forgot about all that shit.

Her voice was strong, soft and melodious, and I actually had goose bumps.

I fiddle with my wedding ring, rolling it around my finger with my thumb as she sings about reaching out and reaching in.

In the worst of days, her touch was a sense of tranquility, enough to calm me when I was enraged or agitated. In the worst of days, her voice was a sense of safety, enough to take my doubts away.

Now? Now I'm a broken man carrying the weight of a broken heart.

How could death rip her away from me like that? Like what we had didn't matter?

I fall asleep on that chair to the sweet sound of her voice, tears making their way down my cheeks, exhausting me into slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

I find it meaningless that my life is supposed to go on like usual after what has happened. I'm supposed to go to school and study geometry as if my world didn't suddenly shift on its axis?

That lasted for less than a week. Going to school became a nuisance, a very tedious chore. I couldn't handle it. I had to get away.

For those five days I was in school, I had to leave Jamie with Karen at her café. She didn't mind but I certainly did.

I was raw from losing Haley and I felt like I was abandoning him; he'd lost his mom and there I was detaching myself from him. I just didn't want to leave my son without either one of his parents.

Karen convinced me, telling me what I already knew, that Haley wouldn't like it if I ditched school, especially in our senior year. And so to school I went, with a cloud hanging over my head.

Girls were coming up to me; girls I barely know and girls I don't know, comforting me, yet injecting sexual innuendos in their words. I know, right? I was furious, too. I was grieving for my wife, but the moment she's out of the picture, they swarm in like vultures to a carcass. It's a disgusting analogy but I was pretty disgusted.

Did they think that what Haley and I had shared was that meaningless? That the only thing that would comfort me was sleeping with them? Did they think that I was eager to embrace my old life?

After days of that unwanted attention, and the stares and whispers that were not making things any easier, I talked to Principal Turner about letting me take a few weeks off.

You'd think I was requesting for annual leave but it was pointless being in school. I could barely concentrate in class, my thoughts drifting between Haley and Jamie, wondering when the bell would ring and I would be with Jamie again.

You may think I'm crazy but I was seeing her everywhere.

I saw her standing at her locker, I saw her laughing as I passed the courtyard and the quad, I saw her grinning as I passed by the Tutor Centre, I heard her laughing in the hallways, I saw her waving at the parking lot, I saw her blowing me a kiss on the bleachers during basketball practice. It got hard to breathe.

My rap sheet as a rebellious student is a mile long and I've had numerous absences, but I think father-to-father, Principal Turner understood. An unusual pardon for an equally unusual situation.

The last time I stepped into Tree Hill High was two weeks ago. Lucas has been bringing me my assignments and he comes by to collect them, too. I really appreciate that he's doing this for me.

I'm trying my best to keep up with the schoolwork and the grades I'd been having, but my tutor is no longer here. Haley was my tutor, you see.

Our relationship started off pretty messily, which was all my fault. My intentions were less than honourable when I approached her for tutoring. Fate, karma, life, universe, God, whoever, showed me just who was in control when I got too cocky thinking that I was the one in control.

The jock and the tutor. The brother and the best friend. I seriously did not see that one coming any more than she did.

No one did, but we went past all the insignificant social hierarchy bullshit and even got married. In high school. You don't hear that often, do you?

Hales and I didn't date for long for us to get married. We were crazy about each other and I couldn't imagine being without her for the rest of my life. They termed us 'too young' and 'too naïve' and 'too inexperienced to know what marriage meant' but we didn't give two shits.

I can tell you that in all honesty I have never felt for anyone than I did for Haley. I couldn't even imagine doing something as simple as holding hands with any other girl except her. When I was with her, nothing else mattered. I wasn't going to let go easily of something that I didn't know existed.

I'm more than aware that I need to graduate. I won't get a scholarship without a diploma and I won't get to the NBA without going to college.

I hardly give a fuck these days, because life has shat all over my plans.

Haley would hate it if I dropped out. And my son needs his father to have some academic credentials. I owe him that much. Considering I haven't touched a basketball in the four weeks since she. . . .died, I need all the academic qualifications I can get.

Funny thing, though: I have an offer for a full basketball scholarship from Duke. I'm not laughing or smiling about it.

I'm wondering what I'm going to do with it, since no actual playing has been taking place at all.

I've wanted to play for the Duke Blue Devils since I understood basketball ranking, but my mind's a lot more preoccupied these days than going to college.

Taking care of my child has been my priority. Even so, I can't bring myself to play. My biggest fan is gone. My love for the game seems to have gone right along with her.

She'd attend the games when she didn't have a shift at the café. When she wasn't there, my eyes always drifted to the bleachers, where I'd imagine her sitting next to my Uncle Keith, cheering me on. Knowing she's not going to be waiting for me at the café or at home with a truckload of questions about the game is agonizing.

I thought I was in a dark place when she left for the tour, but this darkness I'm in right now, I cannot even compare. At least then I knew she was safe and _alive_ somewhere in this world. Now? She's nowhere. Not breathing. Not here. De—

And that realization swallows me whole every time it hits me. It has consumed me.

I feel like my mind will explode. Like it will only take one small thing to make me snap and then break down into pieces.

Jamie is awake from his nap.

I know you're waiting for me to tell you how Hales. . . .died, and I hope you're not getting frustrated with me. I'm just not quite there yet.

It is not a sickness-related death, where I had to watch her slip away from me slowly, but however it is, death is death. It hurts all the same.

* * *

So here I am at the store on a Wednesday afternoon. It's pretty quiet today, probably because people are in school and at work, yet here I am avoiding life.

Jamie's in his carrier gurgling happily, strapped to my chest, his tiny feet dangling and swinging.

I miss her so much whenever I look at him. I can't see myself in him anymore because I see her in him every day.

His eyes are as large as hers, except blue. He has her smile. He has a beauty spot on his left jaw, at the exact same spot as hers. If I could call a baby pensive, Jamie is pensive. Just like his mom.

I make sure I tell him every day just how much his mother loved – _loves _– him and how much she meant – _means_ – to me.

I've developed a habit of chatting with him about anything and everything. I know I shouldn't be using my son as a sounding board; I do trust my friends but my best friend is gone and I'm not as free expressing myself openly with anybody else. And even though he can't respond to the things I say, his squeals, gibberish and toothless grins are enough.

For a guy with some serious issues with my father, I think I'm doing okay raising my son alone, though I've had a lot of help from family and friends.

We're now at the pastas aisle and I grab a couple of boxes of macaroni and cheese. Jamie turns his head, looks up at me, and jumps in the carrier clapping his hands together gleefully. Well, it looks like he's clapping.

I'm not surprised he knows about his mom's obsession with mac and cheese. She fed on the stuff almost all through her pregnancy. I did wonder whether he'd come out screaming, "cheese!". His wail proved my theory wrong.

Add in some crazy toppings like pickles, olives and bacon, _together_, she called it the perfect meal. There's a night I found her on the kitchen floor surrounded by pots and pans, crying as she ate bite after bite of the mixture.

When I asked her why she was crying, she swallowed, cried some more and then answered, "Because I'm hungry and I can't stop eating!"

"Baby, you're pregnant. It's okay to eat."

Forkful halfway to her mouth, she stared at me for a second and then burst into tears again, screaming that I thought she was too fat.

She almost threw up when I made her a plate after Jamie was born.

Jamie wriggling in the carrier brings me back to the present. I make a funny face at him and he laughs.

"You want more mac and cheese, buddy?"

I tickle his foot and he squeals loudly. He really makes me happy.

"Your little brother?" an amused female voice asks.

I hadn't noticed anyone else on the aisle. She's young; I'd guess not more than eighteen.

"My son," I respond with a rub to Jamie's soft cheek.

I look up at her, just in time to see her eyes widen in surprise. I'm used to the reaction.

Jamie is getting fussy, grunting and trying to reach for his feet.

"Your son?" the girl asks.

I look up at her again and nod. "Yes."

He's jumping more forcefully, kicking his legs around while extending his hands. Sometimes getting his clothes on is a struggle.

When he doesn't reach them, he whimpers.

"What is it? Are you hungry? Or do you need a diaper change?"

He gurgles, grunting again. That is a diaper change grunt.

I can feel the girl staring at us as I head to the bathroom. I would be curious, too, if I saw a teenage guy with a baby strapped to his chest.

Fortunately, this store has changing tables in the men's room. There are places I've been to that don't, and I'm usually forced to go back to the car when I need to change Jamie. A year and a half ago, you think I cared about diaper tables and baby wipes?

At the counter after grabbing the last few items in the shopping list, I get a few more looks from several cashiers but I'm not bothered by it.

Sometimes I wish I could carry around a sign declaring that I didn't steal him.

I make sure Jamie is strapped safely in his seat before getting behind the wheel, giving it a few tugs to ensure it's locked in. It makes me uneasy when I don't double-check, what with reading horrifying articles of parents who forgot to buckle in their children's seats.

As we walk up the steps to the house, I can't help but feel a bit pleased. I'm pretty good at juggling a baby and several shopping bags nowadays. Who knew a former jackass like me could be daddy extraordinaire?

I'm home alone this week, my mom having gone down to Charlotte to visit my Uncle Cooper.

She doesn't travel as much as she used to, not only because she quit her job but also because my dad isn't around to give her a reason to stay away from home.

Dan Scott was part of _my_ reason for never coming by the house to see my mom after I got emancipated. And when I married Haley, I didn't come by at all because they, especially my dad, were heatedly opposed to our marriage, constantly telling me just how much I had destroyed my future.

He is the one who actually initiated the annulment papers when Haley went on tour.

I knew nothing about it until Haley sent them back with Lucas, unsigned, except for an "I love you" where her signature was supposed to be.

To say I was furious would be saying it kindly. How controlling and insane can you be to meddle like that? Had he conveniently forgotten that I was emancipated?

God, it still makes my jaw tick when I think about it.

My mom on the other hand warmed up to our marriage later on. She was really broken up about. . . .after Haley. . . .

Even though she was furious when she found out we were married, she didn't hold onto it for as long as my dad did. And after Jamie was born, something changed.

I know you're waiting for me to get it together and tell you about Haley. Soon. I promise.


	5. Chapter 5

It's raining tonight. The rain reminds me of Haley.

There was just something about rain that made things extraordinary for us. Some of our best moments have happened in the rain; when I proposed, Jamie's possible conception, when I gave up fighting my feelings for her after the tour.

The tour. Have I told you about the tour?

Well, Haley has an incredible singing voice and she got approached by some asshole to be part of their tour. I hated that guy.

As much as he was helping Haley with her music, he was hitting on her.

I won't lie to you; I'm a jealous guy. Especially when it comes to my wife. It annoyed me that of all the people that had to help her with her music, it had to be Chris Keller. If you'd met that guy, you'd have thought he was an asshole, too.

I knew he was after her but Haley completely refuted it. And then I found out that he'd kissed her. I swear I could have broken him into quarters.

Everything just seemed to happen so fast. We kept arguing about Keller and the tour and eventually, Haley left.

I could have blamed her for everything falling apart like it did but I can't. I had given her an ultimatum and she'd fought back.

That tour nearly killed our marriage. It shouldn't have but it could have. I was just too pigheaded to see it from her side. I was so angry with her for leaving, so hurt that she didn't want to stay with me that whenever it rained, I'd just get drunk. Bourbon, vodka, brandy, beer, tequila, whiskey. I drank them all, hating the rain, wishing I could drown myself in it.

I didn't, but I crashed a racecar into a wall. How's that for being suicidal?

It took me a long time to understand the parts we played in our separation. I shouldn't have given her an ultimatum, making her choose between her talent and me when she wouldn't have asked that of me; if I could have just stayed put and talked it over before she walked away without giving me a second chance to make it right. . . .

If. If. If.

Sometimes I would say things I didn't mean when we argued and it's one of the things I worked on when we got back together. Seeing how much my quick tongue hurt her, I opted to walk away rather than hurt her with my words. But the best thing about Haley is that she didn't let me leave without a fight. God, my wife. . . .what a spitfire.

If it meant barricading the door just so I would talk to her. . . .And she often did that. She'd poke a finger at my chest, grit her teeth and say, "Hey! Talk, don't walk!"

She looked so cute that some of the stress just seeped out of my body and I'd just laugh.

Every day I wish I wasn't such a fucking jerk to her when she came back. I wasted _months_ pushing her away and being mean to her for all the pain she'd caused me when I could have easily taken her back. What an idiot I was.

I think about it a lot, eventually feeling like I'm struggling to swallow a nail. I had forgiven her a long time before but I was just playing hard to get. I wish I could take it back and do things differently. If I could go back in time…

God, if I could go back in time, I'd have stayed in Tree Hill instead of going to Florida. Or I would have begged her to come with me. Time was wasted on childish behaviour, calling her when it suited me, not responding to her letters…All foolishness on my part.

When I think about it too much, I'll end up loathing myself more than I already do.

Perhaps this is the universe's way of telling me, serves you right, you dick.

* * *

Jamie has been restless since it began to rain. He woke me up; I had somehow managed to sleep longer than half an hour.

It's the first time it's rained since Haley. . . .since she. . . .See how much trouble I'm having just saying it? It's the first time it's rained since. . . .since Haley died.

Every time the words pass my lips, I want to throw up. I always feel like I'm living someone else's life, like there was a huge error in life's database and the wrong person was taken, and one of these days I'll wake up five years ago to find her alive. And we'll have a do-over, and I'll suffocate her with so much love that she'll be begging me for time apart.

Jamie is pulling at the hairs on the nape of my neck, crying and screaming as lightning flashes.

"It's okay, Jame. It's okay."

Storms scare him, enough to make him shriek and shake when the thunder rumbles.

I rub his back soothingly in an effort to quiet him. On nights like these, I would carry him to our bed, placing him between us. We'd lie on our sides, talking while we watched him sleep. We talked about everything, laughing over silly things and making plans for our future. We practically had nothing to our name but we dreamt big.

At this moment, the problem is that I haven't slept in our bed for weeks. The guest bedroom that I had never given a second thought to has been of use to me.

I've been trying to calm him for the last hour in the living room and his fussiness is not easing. I tried to get him to sleep in the guestroom earlier but he didn't bite; I think he knows where his mom spent her nights.

I'm fucking terrified of sleeping in there. Without her. Surrounded by memories.

There are days I'm brave enough to stand by the door but I dare not go in. I feel so sweaty and horrified and nervous that I just walk away in a hurry.

I suppose there comes a time when you have to face your fears. I'm glad I have Jamie with me; I don't think I could do this alone.

I tried to when she was on tour, when she was alive. I'd reach for her in my sleep and instead find a cold, empty space. I don't know how I'm going to do it now.

But the thunderstorm doesn't look like it's passing any time soon, and Jamie sounds like he's being strangled.

With his little fist still clutching my hair and his head buried in my neck as he screams, I walk up the stairs slowly towards our bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

Like a robot, I turn the doorknob inch by inch. I'm beyond wary and afraid as I stand in the doorway.

I swallow down the fear before taking a step in. The whiff of vanilla hits me hard like a ton of bricks.

I don't turn on the light. I don't want to have to see her things lying around. I'm aware they're there, I know where they are, but I just don't want to look at them; the makeup on the dresser, the robe on the seat in the corner of the room, the fuzzy bunny slippers under that same seat, the book on her bedside table.

I hold Jamie tighter to me and breathe out deeply. Lightning flashes and thunder roars as I walk towards the bed, making Jamie wail in fear.

"It's alright, Jame…shhh…it's alright."

The bed is made, the coverlet a little ruffled from the last time we were playing with Jamie.

Placing the baby monitor on my bedside table, I pull back the comforter, laying Jamie in the middle of the bed and positioning myself next to him. I make sure I prop Haley's pillow behind him so that he doesn't roll over.

I'm trying to ignore her scent. It's impossible.

I cover us with the duvet, tucking it around him. His fingers curl around my shirt in a fist as he looks up at me with wet eyes.

I talk to him quietly about random things, alternating between rubbing his hair and behind his ear.

I hope you're not getting tired of me talking about my son so much. He's part of my life and I want you to know how important he is to me.

His shrill cries reduce to sniffles and before long, he's getting sleepy. Surprisingly, so am I.

* * *

I'm woken up by loud pounding on the door. Groaning, I open my eyes slowly, the faint light of morning coming to view. I slept through the night. What a miracle.

I also dreamt of Haley.

We were on a school trip in the canyons, deep in the heart of dirty, rugged and uneven terrain. We were put in groups, and Haley and I were separated. There were rope bridges and nutty teachers involved and I couldn't find her wherever I looked. Finally when I did find her, she was crying, terrified, trembling and talking about clowns trying to eat her, asking me why I had left her alone.

And then it began to rain sunflower petals.

Crazy, don't you think? I think so, too. I wonder what it means…

The knocking is incessant. I turn to Jamie, finding him still asleep with a peaceful look on his face.

I kiss his cheek and pull the duvet over his tiny legs; he had managed to kick it off. Just like Haley. She'd kick off the bedcovers somehow during the night and I'd wake up shivering.

Grabbing the baby monitor, I rub the sleep from my eyes as I head downstairs. Whoever is at the door has the impatience of a—

"Peyton?"

My ex, who turned out to be one of our best friends.

"Hey, Nate!" she greets me brightly.

She's surprisingly alert for someone who is not a morning person.

Despite the signs of darkness outside and that it's a weird hour of the morning to have guests, I have to admit that I'm happy to see her. I could really use the company. I'm worried my social skills are dwindling because of all the baby talk.

"Hey. What brings you by?" I ask, holding a hand over my mouth to hide a yawn.

She's grinning as she walks past me. "I was in the neighbourhood and I realized I haven't seen you in a while so I thought I'd check in on you."

"You don't know anyone else who lives in this area," I say, following her towards the kitchen.

"Fine. I'm here to invite you to my birthday barbecue."

Birthday. When is her birthday again?

"It couldn't wait until..." I look at the kitchen clock. Six ten. "...later?"

"I told you I was in the neighbourhood. I brought doughnuts!"

She shakes the white box, placing it on the counter and walking to the coffeemaker.

"Wow, Nate. Keeping a clean kitchen."

"Gee, thanks. I have a baby, remember? I don't think you all would appreciate cockroaches and flies as friends for him."

She laughs while setting up the coffeemaker. "I just never pegged you for one who knows where the cleaning sponges are kept."

"A father's gotta do what a father's gotta do."

"Speaking of, where's the little tyke? I've missed him."

"He's still asleep."

Jamie has strange timing because right then, his cries come through the baby monitor.

"I'll get him," Peyton offers.

"He's in our room, not the nursery," I call to her as she heads for the stairs.

I can't stop thinking in the plural, yet it's only a 'me' now.

I go about pouring coffee and preparing Jamie's cereal while she's gone.

She's bouncing him on her hip as she walks back into the kitchen, making funny faces at him.

"I've changed his diaper."

Who would have thought the moody, broody cheerleader had a soft spot for children?

"Thanks."

I hand her a cup of coffee before taking Jamie from her. "What woke you up so early on a Saturday, anyway?"

"I'm taking Brooke to Charlotte for some fashion thing. She told me to be up at six but it turns out that _she_ isn't even up yet," she groans, taking a seat.

I sit Jamie on his high chair, tying the bib around his neck. "Why do these things surprise you when you've been friends for what, ten years?"

She sighs. "I'm always hoping she'll change."

We eat in silence. I'm feeding Jamie his cereal, sipping my coffee and taking small bites of a doughnut. Multitasking has become second nature to me.

"Look at you."

I roll my eyes at her. "It's not like this is the first time you've seen me feeding Jamie."

"I know. I just hadn't really noticed it before because Ha—"

Her voice drifts off. I nod briefly before silence settles over us.

Everyone, including me, seems to falter when we're about to say Haley's name out loud, like it's taboo to say it at all. I think it has more to do with the shock that she's not here for us to talk to about.

I clear my throat and focus on Jamie's breakfast. "Say hello to the plane, Jame. Look, it's coming to land…"

He always seems to enjoy the airplane noises when he's being fed. But he has a tendency to respond by blowing his lips together in response and splattering cereal all over. I know I'll find some in my hair sooner or later.

"You said something about a barbecue?" I ask as I wipe his hands and mouth after the usual messy breakfast session.

"Right. Brooke's idea. It'll be on Saturday at my house from about two. Can you come? Will you come?"

I lift Jamie off the high chair and hold him in my arms, giving him his bottle of formula, his fingers trying to grip it.

"This Saturday?"

"Everyone will be there. Please say you'll come? Please, Nate? We've missed you."

Her hopeful tone forces me to steal a glance at her. It makes me nervous thinking of being amongst friends after I've been isolating myself for the last month.

"You want to go to Aunt Peyton's birthday party, buddy?"

He blinks. Twice. My little man is a genius.

"We'll be there."

Peyton claps enthusiastically. "Great!"

After Jamie's finished his bottle, I burp him and then blow raspberries on his tummy. He loves this, almost as much as a puff of powder over his face when he's been changed.

Peyton stays for a while and we catch up on friends, school, her life, but we don't touch on Haley. It's kind of an unspoken thing with our friends. They know I'll talk when I'm ready. But will I ever be?

"What are you planning to do about school?" she asks, leaning her elbows on the table.

I honestly don't know. I haven't truly wrapped my head around the single teenage father thing completely but I'm dealing with it.

"I really don't know. I want to graduate, I have to graduate but right now…it's just so hard."

She nods understandingly.

"I know I'm behind in my classes but when I know what I want to do, I'll make sure I'm doing it right."

"And college?"

College. It's hard for me to see that far into the future. I haven't really figured things out past getting my high school diploma. It's like a slap in the face if I do; it makes the situation too real. And too lonely.

"I got a basketball scholarship to Duke."

"Really? That's great!"

She looks thrilled. "Haley—"

She hesitates, letting the words go unfinished.

I just mumble in agreement. Haley would have been proud of me. I hope Peyton can tell that I don't want to talk about it anymore.

"I miss her too, you know," she whispers, a quiver in her voice.

It's not often that Peyton lets her guard down like this.

"If I never said it...she…she was really good for you."

Leaning my cheek on Jamie's head where he's curled up on my chest, I nod slowly, feeling a lump rise in my throat.

Haley James Scott changed my life.

Peyton spends another half hour with us before Brooke calls in a panic.

She makes me promise a dozen times that we'll be there for her birthday barbecue before she leaves.

"You promise, Nate?"

I breathe out loudly. "I promise. Now will you go? I don't want to be the reason Brooke goes apeshit over missing this trip."

She hugs me, presses a paper in my hand and skips down the driveway.

When I unfold it, it's a sketch of Haley, Jamie and I.


	7. Chapter 7

It's quarter past two and we're running late.

We're late for Peyton's barbecue, and I did promise her we'd be there.

I'm playing a game of peek-a-boo with Jamie as I get him dressed.

His mid-morning nap went on longer than usual and I didn't have the heart to wake him. And he woke up hungry. Then he threw up all over me and himself and because of time, we had to shower together. And Jamie being anti-bath time, or anti-shower time in this case, he was moving around so much that he could have slipped right off my arms.

"Where is it, Jame? Did you hide it?"

He's squealing and garbling as I scamper around the nursery looking for his other shoe.

"I thought you wanted to go wish Aunt Peyton a happy birthday."

We haven't seen everyone in one place together in a while and I'm worried about their reactions. Although I feel weary of their how are you's and concerned expressions, I know they mean well.

I finally find the shoe underneath the rocking chair. How it got there, I don't know. Unless Jamie kicked it off during one of his getting-acquainted-with-my-feet escapades.

As I slip it on, I can see the drawing Peyton gave me last Saturday from the corner of my eye. I taped it to the wall above Jamie's crib; I thought it would be the perfect place for it to be.

It's the only picture in his room of her. I took them all down the night after. . . .after we buried her. Even seeing her in pictures was making me go into tormenting shock. It was like antiseptic being poured repeatedly on an open wound.

Peyton's an amazing artist and the drawing looks very real. It's a replica of the photo we took right after Jamie was born. Was that just a few months ago?

The way Haley's eyes look so alive and happy. And her smile. I can't help but trace my finger on her face. God, I miss her. I miss her so so much.

Jamie gurgles, his foot fidgeting in my hand. Blinking back my sudden tears, I look down at him. I need to get it together for this afternoon.

"Okay, bud. You're ready. Let's go."

I lift him from the crib, grab the bag with all the things we'll need for the day, and then we're off.

* * *

I feel like I'm going to crack. I want to scream because the song playing on radio is one Haley sang to Jamie a lot. I don't mean one time or three times or seven times. About a thousand times.

Jamie's wide awake in the back seat. He's looking out the window, as if deep in thought.

He has these little habits that make him look more mature than his age. Like the way he'll look at people, in concentration, as if he's reading them, gauging them, analyzing them. I honestly think he has his mother's smarts. Thank God for that. I wouldn't want to pass my less-than-average-GPA onto my son.

I'm humming along to the song; the alternative is to burst into tears like a child, and in turn, Jamie crying along with me. He picks up on our emotions very fast; mine and Haley's specifically.

God knows I need to keep it together before I meet everyone.

"You like this song, don't you?" I say through tightened lips.

I look in the rearview mirror and Jamie is now staring at me.

"It reminds you of Mommy, doesn't it, Jame? I miss her a lot too, buddy."

His mouth is in a pout and his lower lip is quivering. Oh God, I think he's going to cry.

I pull off the road, turn off the ignition, get out of the car and open the backseat.

He's already wailing, fat tears running down his ruddy cheeks. I scoop him up from the car seat, and begin to comfort him.

His head is lying on my neck, his fine hair rubbing against my cheek as I soothe his cries.

"Shhh, it's okay. Daddy didn't mean to make you cry. I know you miss Mama. I know. I promise it'll get better, okay little man?"

I have to believe it will get better. If not for my sake, at least for my son. It _has to_ get better.

We're on the roadside for a few minutes. Jamie is quiet now, a little too quiet, and when I look at him, he's rubbing his fist into his mouth. That crying had nothing to do with the song then.

"Does it hurt?"

I rub his upper lip against his gum and he closes his eyes in gratitude.

"You like that, hm?"

I took him to the doctor yesterday. He had been constantly fussy for days. It didn't seem food or diaper related, and he had a slightly high fever. He's teething.

I buckle him back in and rifle through the bag for his teething ring. He grasps it in his hands as it touches his lips, turning it in his mouth and making loud sucking sounds.

"Better?"

He closes his eyes, sighing in satisfaction. I chuckle.

"Ready?"

And then we're back on the road.

* * *

With Jamie on my hip, his bag on my other shoulder and Peyton's gift bag under my arm, I ring the doorbell and wait.

Her present is nothing extraordinary. She loves old, weird music, and I got her a Night Ranger album. It's not even a CD; it's one of those large, black vinyl discs that you're likely to find at an old man's garage sale.

I could go into the house but I don't want to tempt gravity by trying to open the door while juggling a baby and bags. And the last time I walked in unannounced, I found her and Luke half naked on the couch. Awkward cannot explain the moment. I got an idea of how they felt whenever they walked in on Hales and me.

Brooke opens the door and before I can even say a word, Jamie is whisked from my arms.

"Hello to you, too, Brooke," I mumble as I shut the door.

I follow her speedy retreating form to the backyard, and I'm surprised to see that there's quite a crowd gathered.

Peyton calls out for me from the end of the yard.

"Nate! Hi! You made it!"

She runs over and gives me a hug.

"Hey. Happy birthday. Sorry we're late," I say while I give her the present.

"Thanks. You're not that late. We've only just started."

"Didn't know you had so many friends."

She laughs. "It's more of my dad and Brooke's party but I get to blow the candles and keep the presents."

"Lucky you. How was the fashion thing?"

She rolls her eyes. "Some things cannot even be termed as clothes."

Snickering, I shrug the bag off my shoulder. "Could you please put this away for me?"

"Sure. Jamie's?"

"Yeah."

"I'll leave it on the couch. Where is he?"

"Brooke."

"Always Brooke," she laughs. "I'll be right back."

As she's walking away, she turns and says, "Mingle!"

Mingle? It's been a while since I mingled.

My eyes are on the lookout for Brooke when I feel a slap on my shoulder.

"'Sup, dawg!"

Tim.

"Hey, Tim."

"Holla, bro!"

Unintentionally, Tim just has a way of making things light. We've been friends since we were kids, the closest thing I had to a brother before Luke and I actually started acting like brothers.

"What's kickin', homie?"

We've told him enough times to stop talking like this but he doesn't listen.

"Nothing. Have you seen Brooke?"

"She's ballin' over there with some of those shorties," he drawls as he points to the edge of the backyard.

Shorties. That's Tim for you.

Brooke's friends are oohing and aahing over Jamie, and he's passed from one girl to another.

He pokes my side repeatedly. "Hey! Hey! Look!"

I turn to whatever he's looking at. "What?"

"Look!"

"What am I looking at?"

"Those!"

"Those what?"

"The fun bags on that one!"

I punch his arm. "Tim! Do you want to be branded a serial-killing pervert?"

"But I'm already branded a pervert," he says seriously.

I just shake my head. "It's not something to be proud of, Tim. I plan to walk around this town. I have a kid for God's sake. I can't go around being referred to as the pervert's friend. And those…fun bags you were just ogling belong to Karen."

He grimaces. "Luke's mom?"

Then he grins widely. "Alright!"

"You seriously need to stay away from me."

"Hey, Nate," Lucas says as he walks over to us. Tim seems to take a step back behind me.

"Hey, man."

"You made it."

"She made me promise," I grin.

I bump fists with Skills and Mouth. The last time I saw them all was when I was in school, but I've seen Lucas more often, normally because he brings me my assignments.

He's Haley's best friend, he is my brother and Jamie's uncle, and he feels responsible to take care of us, no matter how many times I tell him he really doesn't need to. He's been popping in for a visit when he can, even if there are no assignments for me. Usually, we just play video games or he babysits Jamie while I'm doing laundry or vacuuming. As brothers go, he's always making fun of my domestic skills.

"Good to see you, man," Luke says with nodded agreement from Mouth and Skills.

Tim is nodding, too, but you can't tell because he looks like a bobbing head.

"Do you know most of these people?" I ask Luke.

"Nah. The older ones are Peyton's relatives. Her dad threatened them with bodily harm if they didn't come."

"He's still out at sea?"

"Yeah, but he'll be around next week."

"You must be glad that they broke up with your mom, huh?"

He shoots me a dark glare. "What the shit, Nate?"

"What? You wouldn't be able to date Peyton. I'm relieved on your behalf, Lucas."

He narrows his eyes at me. It's so easy to mess with him.

"By the way, how does it feel having such an age gap with your sister? You'll be pushing middle-age when she's going off to college."

"I need a drink," he says, walking towards the food table.

Have I told you the twisted story that is my family tree? Most families can be summed up easily: mom, dad, brothers, sisters. Not mine.

My dad dated Karen, Luke's mom, when they were in high school. After she found out she was pregnant, my dad abandoned her and left for college, where he met my mom, Deb.

She got pregnant, too, and three months after Luke was born, I came along. And then my dad moved back to Tree Hill, raising me with an iron fist but ignoring Lucas.

Keith, my dad's brother, helped Karen raise Luke and somewhere along the way, they realized there were feelings beyond friendship. They got married last year and had a daughter together, Lily.

Two years ago, Lucas joined the basketball team. My dad had programmed hatred and loathing for Lucas into me, so I did everything I could to make his life a living hell on the team. Luke wasn't budging, so I figured I could use his best friend – Haley – to get to him. Remember my less-than-honourable intentions? Well, I wanted her to fall for me and then break her heart. But I fell first. Hard and fast, deeply and thoroughly.

Haley was my…salvation. We met when my life was a lonely mess, and all that messiness was pointing to a crappy life at home.

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate that I was fortunate to grow up with things. But I craved for more than tangible things.

Were it not for her, I would have been stuck under the oppressive rule of my father for the rest of my life. Were it not for her, I wouldn't have become the man that I am today.

The worsening bickering between my parents of who got custody kept me away from home most nights. I found myself sneaking into Haley's room five nights a week, sometimes seven, seeking her out for a breather, seeking her out as the one person I could completely depend on.

It was on one of those nights that we went online and I got to know my rights.

With the help of a lawyer, I got emancipated. I moved out of home, got a job, married Haley and the rest is history.

"Yeah, dawg! Total babe magnet! It's like if shorties saw you with her they'd be diggin' you and askin' for your digits!" Tim hollers behind Luke's back.

"He's gone, Tim," Mouth says.

I'd be lying if I said I haven't noticed the looks I get from women. I just don't acknowledge them. Going back to school can attest to that.

They think that I'm a broken cup that needs fixing, and they're the glue to put me together. Can't they understand that I don't want to be fixed?

I'm not an overtly religious person but if I could join a monastery just so people can leave me alone, I would. But I don't think they let in fathers, teenage ones at that. I doubt I'd thrive well in that environment, anyway. I have nothing against the monks; I just know that lifestyle isn't something I'm cut out for. And yes, I intend to die married to only one woman.

Don't be so shocked; you were probably wondering when I'd mention it.

* * *

The barbecue is going well. I feel almost…normal. Minus the fact that my heart is steadily in longing.

There are instances when talking with friends that I can't help but think, Haley would have liked that.

A joke or a funny-looking piece of food.

_Haley would have liked that._

But despite the darkness in me, it's good to see all of the people who have been so supportive since what happened.

Jamie is passed around from person to person and I flinch at all the kisses and cheek pinches he's getting. He is going to get another bath before bed tonight. I'm not a germaphobe but when it comes to Jamie, why take the chance? I only know an eighth of the people gathered here.

"Nate," says my Uncle Keith.

We're seated at one of the large picnic tables, digging into burgers and hotdogs. I'm trying to eat but I think my stomach has shrunk to a status where it can't handle more than one burger. Usually, I would have wolfed down my portion and stolen some from Haley's plate by now. She never minded, though.

"Yeah?"

I'm keeping it casual. I honestly think I'm going to break down if someone treats me like an eggshell. Remember when I told you that I felt like cracking when I heard that song playing on radio? I want to make sure that it doesn't happen.

I look at my uncle expectantly, taking a drink from my soda.

"You know I'm here for you, right?"

I nod. He's sitting next to me, so no one can overhear our conversation.

"Yes. Thank you."

Up until two years ago, Keith and I were practically strangers. He's stepped in where my father ought to be.

He shakes his head. "I just want you to know that your job is still there and whenever you're ready, just let me know."

I've been relying on some of my savings for a while now, and my mom has been gracious enough to give me some money, too, but I know I need to get it together and go back to work. I won't touch the money we put aside in our rainy-day account. I'm not incapacitated or bedridden, so using it doesn't count as an emergency.

Luke and I work at Uncle Keith's garage. I'm not as experienced as any of them but I'm learning.

The good thing about the garage is that there's a daycare centre across the street and I'm able to spend my free time there with Jamie.

Whenever Haley had to be away from the house for a whole day and neither Karen nor my mom was available to babysit, she would leave Jamie at daycare and I'd pop in to see him when I was free. It's really important to me that I spend time with my son. When you grow up one way, you aim for your child to grow up the other _better_ way.

"Thanks, Uncle Keith. I'm actually thinking of starting on Monday."

I made up my mind yesterday about getting back in the swing of things. I'm not sure how I'm going to do it all but I'll figure something out. I just can't hide away forever. I can't hide Jamie away forever.

He looks surprised. "Are you sure?"

"If that's okay with you."

He pats my shoulder. "Yes, of course. As long as you're sure about it."

I twirl the drink in my cup. "I am. I think I need to keep busy, anyway. School, work, home. That's my life from now on."

I grin at him just to let him know that I'm doing okay. When I know I'm really, truly not.

* * *

"Did you have fun, Jame?"

Saturdays in Tree Hill can be a nightmare because of traffic. People come to town from wherever they come from on the weekend and then it's back to wherever they came from on weekdays. One of the joys of being a coastal town.

We left the barbecue before the evening party started. Can you imagine partying with a baby on your hip? That's just insane. And I'm not that senseless even with my grief.

"Were you excited to see everyone? They really missed you, buddy."

He shrieks.

"You did? You want to go back? No, that one is just for grownups. When you grow up, you can have one too. Definitely. Preferably without alcohol."

I'm not surprised he's still awake. He's wired from all the excitement people had over seeing him. And because he's teething, the discomfort keeps him up. He's been pulling at his ear, even with his teething ring.

Adults can express they're hurting easily, but babies? A six-month-old can only cry, and it could mean that he's either hungry, wet or in pain. He has no words for what he's feeling and it's up to us to pick up on it.

"It'll get better. After they're out, you'll feel better."

I am fucking exhausted. Leaving aside the weirdness of seeing my dead wife night and day, I'm the caretaker to an infant, and that is not an easy job in itself.

I'm running on little sleep, my body feels like it's made with lead as I drag myself from room to room meeting Jamie's needs. I crave a few hours to myself, to just sit in silence without hearing him cry, but then I feel guilty that I want time to myself at all.

When we finally get home, it's a little past seven.

The lights are on in the house and my mom's car is in the drive.

"Mom?"

"In here!"

I drop the diaper bag at the foot of the stairs and walk to the kitchen, where I find her stirring a pot on the stove.

"Hi, honey," she says, walking over to me to give me a hug.

"Hi. Welcome back."

"Thanks."

"How was the trip?"

She tickles Jamie's tummy and he giggles gleefully.

"It was good. Don't you look handsome, Jamie! Did you go out?"

"Peyton had a birthday barbecue."

"How was it?"

"Okay."

"I'm sure your friends were happy to see you. Are you hungry? I'm making chicken noodle soup."

I freeze up on the inside at the mention of chicken noodle soup. Chicken noodle with extra noodle was another of Haley's favourite foods.

In her first trimester, she had it at least once a day. Tired of buying takeout, I found an easy recipe online and surprised her. Amazingly, for my first try, it was actually pretty good.

I shake my head, ridding myself of the gloomy thought. "Um…no. There was a lot to eat at Peyton's. How was Charlotte?"

"Cold," she says as she takes Jamie from me. "And Marie said hello."

My mom passes greetings from her friends to me when she's back from one of her trips but I can barely recall them. I have met them, when she took me with her to Charlotte for a few weeks one summer, and I was only twelve.

"Who?"

She gives Jamie several kisses. "Look at you, handsome. Grandma has missed you so much. Marie. Juliana's mom?"

Juliana, my so-called sixth-grade 'girlfriend'. Dubbed so by our mothers, but we actually hated each other. She was a brat, I was a brat, she slashed my basketball, I slashed her Barbie doll. It was too early for me to be in a dysfunctional relationship.

"Right. I have to give Jamie a bath but I'll come back down when he's asleep," I say, stifling a yawn.

She must have noticed because she tells me not to bother.

"I'll just see you tomorrow. I have a few things to do, anyway. Remind me to give you the gifts from Coop tomorrow. Give me a kiss, you sweet boy!"

* * *

Jamie doesn't like bath time. He splashes around in a hateful manner, not in enjoyment.

Haley and I came up with a technique while he had his bath: one of us would distract him with a song or a story or a toy and the other would wash him. Usually, I did the distracting because I was 'good at being goofy', like she put it.

I've managed to do it alone by talking to him, maintaining eye contact and making funny faces. If I don't, I'll be the one drenched; he grips the sides of the tub and kicks his legs furiously in the water.

He's already rebellious and he's not even hit the toddler years. I can't think about what those years will bring. Or the teen years. One day at a time is how I'm going to do this before I lose my shit.

Tonight's bath routine is easy. I think he's too tired to fight me on this one; his eyes are drooping by the time I'm done. He falls asleep not long after his bath while I'm rubbing lotion on him.

Later, I lie half-awake, thinking about the coming week. Like I told Uncle Keith, I plan on going back to school, and work. As damaged as I am, I have to make an attempt at 'moving on'.

I have a son to raise and hiding away like this won't feed him or clothe him. Most of all, hiding him away like this isn't healthy for him in any way.

I can't take him with me to school, so I will have to talk to my mom about looking after him. If she's unable to, I could leave him with Karen or at the daycare centre.

Christ, this feels like the true beginning of single parenthood. It's going to get harder before it gets easier.

I sigh heavily, turning on my side, facing Haley's pillow, a trace of her perfume rising in the air.

Can I do this without you?


	8. Chapter 8

Holy shit, I may be a walking dead man.

Some days I feel worn out, like if I take one more step, I may just collapse. And no matter how tired I am, I'm still unable to sleep well. If the broken heart won't kill me, the exhaustion will.

I've been juggling school, work and Jamie for the last two weeks. And even so, the time I spend with my son is not enough in comparison to that I dedicate to school and work.

On weekdays, my shift at the garage starts from six to ten, weekends from two to seven. My mom babysits at least three days a week, and at five-thirty, she drops him off at the daycare centre before heading to Tric, the all-ages club she co-owns with Karen. When she can't babysit, I leave Jamie with Karen.

I returned to basketball, and basketball is almost every day after school until five. Once practice is over, I drive straight to the daycare centre, where I spend the half hour before my shift to be with him. Then I take him to Karen at the café until my shift is completely over.

So in a nutshell, I get four hours at most with Jamie on weekdays: in the morning before school, in the afternoon before work, late at night when he's up.

Four hours. That's just not enough in my book.

I grew up in a house like that, where I barely had real face time with my parents, and from experience, absentee parents aren't the 'cool' factor they're cut out to be. In some ways, that can screw up a kid. I ended up emancipated. How was that not fucked up?

_Four hours._

I'm not looking for twenty-four interactions but I want to be there for Jamie in ways that my parents never were. I'm doing the best I can but I need to do better than that.

* * *

Basketball has always been my escape.

For years, running on the court has been my therapy; the equivalent of a boxer's punching bag.

For those few hours we're doing drills and practice games, I forget how terrible it feels to be without her. The fear. The loneliness. The aloneness. The desperation.

I try to, anyway. With very little to no success.

Stepping into the gym after weeks away, I was greeted by Whitey's shrill whistle. I'd actually missed hearing him yelling.

When he saw me, he just nodded and blew the whistle again. He, most of all, knows the pain of losing the love of your life. Lucky for him he had several decades with her. I didn't even hit the silverware anniversary. God, what a bitter person I'm turning out to be.

If Dan Scott had been around, he'd have burst a blood vessel at my awkward free throws on that first day of practice.

Since I hadn't exercised for some time, I was a little out of shape. To be honest, I was more than out of shape. I'd lost weight and muscle that I had built up over the years from everyday exercising and weightlifting, thanks to my dad's constant nagging.

I was running out of breath, sweating more than usual, and my heart was beating a mile a minute. Anxiety, a panic attack or the result of no exercise? I didn't like it one bit.

After that episode, I made sure that I was in the gym during my free periods to gain what I lost.

I could do without the pitiful looks but my teachers have been really patient with me when it comes to class work. I'm not exempt from homework, though, and I wouldn't want it any other way. I don't want any special treatment. God knows there are people who hate my guts because of my breezy academic life when I was a freshman and sophomore. I barely studied for classes and I felt entitled to passing because I was king of the school, because I played basketball.

Took a spunky, beautiful girl to remind me that the world owed me nothing. Took that same spunky, beautiful girl to show me that I had an identity beyond basketball.

Haley has been gone for a month and three weeks. Fifty-two long days.

I wish every day that she were here to see him grow up. I take pictures to document everything. I really don't know why I do it but I just do; when I'm feeding him, when he's sleeping on the couch, when he's sleeping on our bed, when he's having a bath, when he's in the car…

Sometimes late at night, I find myself having conversations with Haley as I pore over the pictures, telling her about what happened in each picture. Is that crazy?

It's very likely it would be certified as crazy by a shrink.

You may wonder whether I'm getting tired of doing so many things at once. I am. But Jamie is the reason I keep going. Whenever I think of him, whenever I see him, I remember I'm doing this for him.

I want him to have a good life. I probably can't afford a big house like we live in now but I want to make sure he's comfortable.

If I have to work double shifts or triple shifts just so he can attend summer camp, I'll do it. If I have to sell some of my personal stuff at garage sales and flea markets just so he can go for a field trip, I'll do it. I'm willing to sacrifice _anything_ for my son.

It's on one of these harried days that I get the phone call. The phone call that changes my life.

I don't mean to make it sound so ominous but it's still quite surreal to me.

You're curious about it, aren't you?

I would be if I were you.

The call comes during my free period, when I'm alone in the school gym lifting weights. My phone vibrates in the pocket of my shorts, and naturally, I would ignore it but it could be important. It could be about Jamie.

I pull myself up from the bench, wiping my sweaty face with a towel, panicking about what I'm about to hear.

"Hello?"

_"Hello. May I please speak with Nathan Scott?"_ a female voice asks on the other end.

"I'm Nathan Scott. May I help you?"

_"Mr. Scott, my name is Elizabeth Hunter and—"_

"Is it Jamie?" I cut in, not liking the tone of her voice.

My heart is suddenly thumping.

_"Jamie?"_ she asks, puzzled.

"My son. Are you calling from the daycare centre?"

_"No. I'm calling you from The University Hospital in Newark."_

Newark? What do I have to do with New Jersey?

"Oh. Okay."

_"I don't know how to tell you this but…it's about…it's about your wife." _

There's that thumping again, only now it's louder and my blood feels frozen.

"My wife?"

_"Mr. Scott, I don't know how to tell you…"_

She's hesitant, like she's scared.

"Just say it."

I feel as though I'm screaming at her but it comes out as a harsh whisper.

What about my wife? What about Haley? Did we bury the wrong person!? Are they calling to say that they buried her and we have their relative?

_"Mr. Scott, your wife…your wife asked us to call you."_

"From the grave?"

What the hell is she talking about?

She sighs and then says,_ "Your wife is a patient in our hospital, Mr. Scott. She wants you to come for her."_

I burst out laughing. "Is this some kind of a joke?"

She clears her throat as though uncomfortable. _"I assure you that this is not a joke. Your wife woke up and she asked us to call you."_

I swear my throat closes up, the last chuckle bubbling out of me like a shriek.

Holy shit. Is she saying what I think she's saying?

"She—"

I can't even complete the question.

_"Your wife is alive, Mr. Scott."_

Christ. Holy shit. Jesus, Jesus. What the hell is going on?


	9. Chapter 9

You've been patient enough with me.

I've talked about my single parenthood status and my struggle without Haley for long enough. Now I can tell you what happened to her. At least, the events that led up to me being told that my wife was alive. It's appropriate timing after that phone call.

For weeks, I have replayed everything in my head a thousand times, and if I wanted, I'd mention every detail.

But I won't bore you with the mundane, despite their importance to me, like how many of Jamie's toys were in the room or the angle to which Haley's robe was in.

I'm not a very perceptive person but I could describe to you how our bed was made, right down to the hospital corners.

Let's get to it then before I lose my nerve.

* * *

"Okay, I'm ready."

I was playing with Jamie on the bed when Haley stepped back into the room, suitcase and purse in hand.

"Are you sure you want to go?"

She laughed. "You're the one who pushed me to go."

"I just don't know…"

"I promise to be careful. Besides, I'll be on the train. How much trouble can I get into on the train?"

She lay back on the pillows beside me and pulled Jamie to her lap.

"I know, but New York is not Tree Hill. People are mugged and killed—"

"People are mugged and killed everywhere. We talked about this, Nathan. It's only for three days and then I'll be back. I promise to call you every minute of every day and send kisses through the wire."

She was smiling as she played with Jamie's hair, but it was a shaky smile like she was about to cry. "I'm going to miss you, sweet baby James."

We hadn't spent a night apart, leave alone three, since we moved back in together. Jamie had never spent a single night away from Haley.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to the station?"

"I'm sure. It's all foggy and I don't want you driving around with Jamie. I'll feel better knowing you're both home."

"But I can leave him with Mom—"

She put a finger on my lips. "No, Nathan. I'd rather not go insane thinking of you driving back in this fog."

I shook my head a little. "I just have a bad feeling about this, Hales. And it's not like the drive to the station is fogless, either. You know I worry when you're out in any kind of funky weather."

"I know you're worried, baby, and I love you for it, but I'll be fine."

She leaned her forehead against mine. "I promise to call you when I get on the train."

"And when the train leaves the station."

"Yes."

"And when you get to the next town."

"Yes."

"And when—"

"Nathan, I promise to call! I'll even call when I'm going to the bathroom!"

"Good girl."

We laughed, talking and kissing some more, Jamie demanding attention every now and then.

"Haley, cab's here!" Mom yelled from downstairs.

"That's my cue, hotshot."

She carried Jamie while I grabbed her bags, and we headed downstairs to the front door.

"Sure you have everything?" I asked for the millionth time.

"Yes. Would you stop worrying? Everything will be fine."

"All set?" Mom asked as she walked towards us from the living room.

"All set. I'll miss you, Deb," Haley told her as they hugged.

"I'll miss you, too. Give us a call when you get there, alright?"

"Come here, Jimmy-Jam," Haley said as she took Jamie from my arms. "I'm going to miss you so much! I'll call you a lot and I want you to be a good boy for your dad. No peeing in his face, okay?"

She showered his face with kisses, balancing tears in her eyes. Then she hugged me, with Jamie between us. By now, she was sniffling.

I remember what she'd worn that day: her favourite dark-blue skinny jeans, the black boots Brooke bought her for her birthday, a white ruffle blouse and white scarf that were gifts from my mom from one of her trips to Charlotte, and the bright red coat that I got her before winter. The only jewelry she had on was her wedding ring.

She handed Jamie to me after giving him an Eskimo kiss and another pep talk.

"I'm going to miss you, babe," she said, snuggling against my chest.

"I'll miss you too."

She kissed me for a moment longer before starting for the cab. She hadn't walked too far down the driveway when she ran back to us.

"I love you, I love you," she cried as she hugged us again.

After a few more hugs and kisses, she left.

We waved until the cab went round the street corner. That was the last time I saw my wife.


	10. Chapter 10

"Wait. I don't…What do…"

My wife is alive? My wife is fucking alive!?

Seriously, how does someone react to news like that? How does someone react to hearing that the one person they love the most isn't really dead after months of thinking so?

Well, I don't have that manual but I know what I'm doing. Nothing.

To say I'm fucking shocked would be putting it mildly.

I'm stunned. Horrified. I also feel confused. And a little nauseous.

I feel like this stranger called Elizabeth Hunter has neatly pulled the rug right out from under my feet. And she has pierced my soul with a hot rod.

Flashes of memories with Haley keep running through my mind.

Our first tutor session and her cool demeanor, our first kiss, saying I love you, our wedding, our wedding night…

One after another, they come in waves, crashing into each other, like a beautiful montage floating out of my very soul.

I want to hurl.

I'm afraid of hoping. I'm afraid that there is a mistake, another mistake in my database.

I'm afraid that this stranger has the wrong Nathan Scott, that the Nathan Scott she is mistaking me for is missing his wife and the poor bastard deserves to feel that hope, not me; that the poor sucker ought to be the one begrudging Elizabeth Hunter for turning his life upside down.

_"Mr. Scott? Mr. Scott? Are you still there?"_

Where the fuck else would I be? I want to shout.

All I can croak out is, "Yes."

I want to say more but I can't.

How the fuck did this shit happen? How did I bury my wife yet someone is telling me different? Is it April Fool's? No, no. April's a few months away.

_"When can we expect to see you?" _she asks.

I'm beginning to resent her. The way she's asking me these questions it's like she's confirming my attendance for brunch at the country club.

"What?"

_"When can we expect to see you, Mr. Scott?" _she repeats.

"See me? See me where?"

_"Your wife is in our hospital here in New Jersey, Mr. Scott," _she says patiently.

She must think I'm a moron, but I don't really give a damn considering the bomb she's just dropped on me.

_"She recently woke up_ _from a coma and she's asking for you."_

A coma? What in the…

Oh, God, I need a fucking drink.

"I…I can leave tomorrow."

I manage to listen to her instructions and after I hang up, I sit there stunned, taking a few moments to organize my thoughts.

Haley. Alive. Coma. New Jersey. Tomorrow.

Not a joke.

I should have asked her to send me a picture with Haley holding today's paper. Proof of life. Evidence.

I don't call anyone, keeping this mess to myself. I don't know what else to do but leave school. I have a test but it's similar to asking me to sort out chicken feet at the slaughterhouse after the news I've heard.

I'm on autopilot mode. I shower and dress, drive to town, ask Uncle Keith for the day off, pick up Jamie from daycare and drive us home.

I feed him, I play with him, I put him down for a nap, but my mind is clouded with thoughts of Haley.

In a coma. Just woke up.

She was in a coma.

This whole time, she's been in a fucking _coma_. I swear to God I feel like my life has turned into a stupid D-movie.

I try to keep busy, to not think about it. Laundry, homework, TV, a nap for myself, nothing is working. A seed has been planted.

Finally giving up, I switch on the TV and just sit back on the couch, the noise serving as a great soundtrack to my wild thoughts.

My wild thoughts are still on that phone call when Jamie wakes up, as I play with him, as I go through the motions of feeding him, bathing him, and rocking him to sleep.

Your mom's still here, I want to say. But I won't. I may be giving him false hope.

My wild thoughts are still on that phone call when my mom gets home.

"I need to tell you something," I blurt when she greets me.

A minute later, I'm trying to explain what Elizabeth Hunter told me.

Who the hell is this Elizabeth Hunter? A nurse? A doctor? A psycho luring me to my grave? Do I need to do a Google search on her?

My body is still reeling in shock as I repeat what I was told on the phone. The most I can remember of it.

"What…what are you talking about?"

She has that horrified look I must have had.

"She's alive, Mom."

She's alive. Saying it out loud makes it sound insane.

After months of coming to terms with her death, this shit happens. Give it up to the universe. Whoever's in charge is probably having a fit of mind-blowing laughter at our expense.

"She was in a coma and she just woke up. God, she must be so scared."

Can you imagine being in her position? Waking up from a coma to find that the people you thought loved you are nowhere to be found?

"How the hell did this happen, Mom? We've been grieving for weeks and suddenly she's alive?"

My head is pounding. I don't know whether to cry or scream or laugh until my ribs ache. All I have is that familiar ache in my chest, that longing and incompleteness that seemed to have made a home for itself in me since she died.

But she's still here. She's still here.

I pushed her to go to New York. I shouldn't have; I should have just stopped pestering her about it.

And after, I didn't look for her hard enough. I shouldn't have given up so easily, so soon. She wouldn't have been alone in some random hospital in a coma when I could have been there holding her hand and begging her to wake up.

"I have to travel to New Jersey tomorrow. I have to know if—"

If it's her.

She squeezes my shoulder. "I know. You can leave Jamie with me."

I shake my head. "No. He'll come with me. Haley will want to see him."

If it is her, she will want to see him.

We sit in silence for a while and then I bid her a good night. There's nothing more to say. She'll need to absorb the news, and I need to compose myself before I make a call.

* * *

My fingers are shaking as I dial. He'll probably pass out from shock.

"Luke."

_"Hey. How are you?" _

"Lucas, I have some news."

_"Nate, what's wrong? What happened? Is it Jamie?"_

He sounds scared.

I usually don't call him so late in the night. The one time I've called him very late was the night of Haley's debacle of a bachelorette party.

None of the girls' phones were on and at 3AM, she had still not come home. I was going out of my mind with worry. With reason. Haley James out at 3AM? Unlikely. Unheard of.

Turns out they had been detained at a strip club for not having enough money to pay for their…activities. And she was drunk out of her mind. From two shots of tequila and a glass of champagne.

"No. He's fine. It's about…it's Haley."

_"Haley? What about Haley?"_

How do I say it?

"She's alive, Luke."

I hear that sharp intake of breath books talk about.

"_What the fuck are you saying, Nate?" _he demands.

I tell him what I know, and that I'll be heading to New Jersey tomorrow.

_"I want to come with you,"_ he says when I'm done.

"Are you sure?"

_"She's my best friend," _he whispers.

I think I should hang up before he cries. We may be brothers and friends but we have to deal with this separately before we see each other.

"Okay. I'll pick you up at seven thirty."

* * *

Her scent lingers around me. It's almost overpowering tonight.

Since the night of the thunderstorm, I've been sleeping in our room for the past few weeks, but that's just about it. Most of my clothes are still in the guestroom; I don't want to have to walk into our closet. There are only so many reminders of her that I can handle. Her perfume is enough to send me into a tailspin; what would peeking into her wardrobe have done to me?

But tonight…it's different tonight. I got a phone call that has made me dizzy by analyzing and overanalyzing it, and if what Elizabeth Hunter told me is actually the truth, I can be brave enough to face my fears. Because it means that there's hope that my wife will return home.

Gritting my teeth, I turn on every lamp, bathing the room in warm, yellow light. I sit on the bed, my eyes traveling around the room as if seeing it for the first time.

Her eyeglasses are lying on top of the book she was last reading. _Hatched_. I honestly thought she was thinking of starting a chicken farm when I first saw her reading it.

Her clothes take up most of the space in the closet, but I've somehow never run out of space for my stuff.

Her strawberry-flavoured lip gloss, her perfume, her lotion, her jewelry box…All of them sitting on the dresser, waiting for their owner.

Clearing my throat, I walk to the dresser to grab the things I'll need.

We'll have to leave early, so I make sure I pack enough for Jamie and me. I would rather be prepared by having too many things than too little. I also throw in a couple of things for Haley; toiletries, underwear, her fuzzy bunny slippers, her pajamas and my Duke t-shirt, sizes too big but it was her favourite thing to sleep in.

When I'm done, I lay back on the bed in the dark, trying to summon sleep so that I'm fully awake for the drive to New Jersey tomorrow. If you were me, it would be impossible to fall asleep, don't you think?

I can feel the coolness of Haley's wedding ring against my skin, where it rests in a chain around my neck. Where I put it after that day.

The day she died. I could term that as the worst day of my life.


	11. Chapter 11

She was anxious about meeting the recording bigwigs in New York.

She'd called me, as promised, when she got to the train station and when the train left Tree Hill.

The record label had been interested in her since the "Friends with Benefit" album, but Haley chose not to do anything about it because our marriage was still fragile after her tour. I wanted her to do it but she was adamant about not pursuing it.

Then Jamie came along and she completely shunned the idea. But Epic Records didn't.

They kept calling and after mentioning it several times, I convinced her to at least go to New York and hear them out. I remember she said she'd do it "just so you'll stop talking about it!"

On that cold January evening, I hadn't been home for very long from work, playing with Jamie in the living room, when my cell phone rang.

"Hey, Luke."

"Nate, are you watching the news?"

He sounded funny.

"No. What's going on?" I asked as I got up from the floor to look for the remote.

"Oh my God…there's…just…just turn on the news…any channel."

I turned on the TV, thinking it was basketball-related, only to see orange flames and black smoke.

_"Breaking News: Train Veers off Track, Crashes into Field"_

How the hell does a train veer off the railroad?

"Luke, it's some story about a—"

Train.

Luke's call.

Holy fuck.

Haley.

I just hang up and immediately called the police. No one was giving me any information.

Luke, Peyton, Brooke, Skills and Mouth came over to the house; I can't remember opening the door for any of them or saying anything but they were there, helping in making calls asking about Haley.

Calling the police and the train service every fifteen minutes, no one would tell me anything.

I thought I was going to go crazy. I felt like it already. I must have looked like a demented person. I had run my fingers through my hair a thousand times and I was so high strung that my hands were shaking. My eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets and I just couldn't keep still.

When Jamie needed to be changed, fed and rocked to sleep, I did it. I don't know how I did it but I did.

At 2.21AM, the police called me back.

"Nathan Scott?"

I didn't like the tone of his voice.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Scott, we have information about your wife."

I was already out of the seat looking for my car keys. "What? Holy shit, did you find her? Where is she!?"

"I'm sorry to tell you, sir, but…your wife is dead."

At first I didn't understand. Had he just told me that Haley was dead?

"What are you talking about?"

"We found her body in the wreckage."

Her body. Her body.

"It was pretty bad and her body was found underneath some rubble…"

Her name is Haley! I wanted to scream. And she's not dead!

"Th-there must be a mistake…"

"I'm sorry, sir. From the description you gave us of her wedding ring, I'm sorry to say…"

I'm sorry. I wanted him to stop saying it. But I couldn't utter a single word. I couldn't breathe. Air seemed to have been sucked out of my lungs.

That conversation was so…cool, like they were letting me know that my pet had strayed into another district, and could you kindly come and collect your mangy dog before we put him down?

It was just so impersonal. Would it have been too fucking much to ask to be told in person?

I remember hearing that they had found my wife's…body…charred and unidentifiable. The only thing that gave them a clue as to who she was was the wedding ring I had described to them, engraved with the "Always and Forever".

It was only after I heard the dial tone that it seemed to dawn on me. Haley was dead?

The phone dropped from my hand and I just switched off.

I must have been like that for a while because the next thing I knew, Luke was shaking my shoulder violently.

"Nate! What did he say?"

I turned my head slowly, my eyes darting frantically around the room. They landed on a picture of Haley and me on our wedding day at the beach: a white orchid in her hair, her smile dazzling through the still image, her cheek resting on my chest, her wedding ring gleaming in the setting sun.

What the fuck was happening?

I needed to find her. She wasn't dead. She was upstairs with Jamie. What was that man talking about?

"Nate! Nate! What did he say!?" Luke demanded.

His voice rang in slow motion in my head.

I blinked, dragging out a painful breath. "She's dead."

Gasps and cries tore across the room, and then Luke was shaking his head vehemently.

"Fuck you," he said.

I could only stare at him. I should have said the same thing to that cop on the phone.

"Stop lying!" he yelled.

It took me three tries to get up from the couch. I didn't know where I was going but I needed to get out of there.

I stumbled up the stairs, gasping for breath, my fingers shaking as I gripped the frame of Jamie's crib.

"Haley?" I called out. "Haley? Baby, someone just called and they said…they said… th-they said—"

Oh my God.

I wanted to scream but I couldn't.

I slid down to the floor, my fingers reaching through the planks for Jamie's hand. His tiny fist closed around my finger, the connection not lost on me.

He emitted a small sigh and warmth went through me. He had her mouth.

_"Your wife is dead."_

Cold terror shot through me as I heard the strange man's voice replaying in my head.

It seemed to be hours as I sat there, trembling, looking at the perfection that was our son. I looked for Haley in each one of his features; his eyelashes, his nose, his mouth, his ears, his fingers, his toes. Haley was in each one of them.

My next memory was of someone shaking me.

Lucas was leaning over me, telling me to go to bed. He didn't tell me to go fuck myself again.

I could hardly think, let alone sleep. She was gone.

Just like that, she was gone.

And she wasn't coming back.

In my complete confusion and numbness, I was aware when they called me about shipping over. . . .the body from New Jersey.

I didn't want to go to the morgue. I couldn't; there was nothing there that would make me feel better, nothing to bring me back to life.

They sent me her personal effects: just her wedding ring.

Everybody helped with the funeral arrangements. I did very little on that front. I could barely function.

The mornings were the worst. It took everything to get out of bed, and when I finally did, all I did was take care of Jamie. And think about the terror Haley must have felt being burnt to death. Sometimes when I shut my eyes, I swear I could hear her screaming, screaming for me to help her…

_"Nathan, help me!" _

Over and over and over again, reaching her hand out for me. I couldn't answer, I couldn't get to her, having to watch the flames engulf her…I was afraid to close my eyes, knowing that every time I did, she'd be there and I wouldn't be able to help her.

I remember standing by the kitchen sink during the wake, hiding away, holding a sleeping Jamie over my shoulder, staring out the window.

The night before she left, we had been lying on a picnic blanket on the grass, looking up at the sky, discussing college and summer. She'd told me that she'd decided she would go to Duke with me. I told her I had decided I would go to Stanford with her. We ended up laughing, curling up on the blanket until we heard Jamie crying through the baby monitor. Just days before, she had been here…

I just felt numb. I wanted to cry but I was just numb. The shock of the news of her death hadn't worn off.

I had been crashing in the guestroom and Jamie's room from the night the police had called me about Haley. I had moved my clothes from our bedroom. I couldn't bear to look at Haley's things, be surrounded by them. I couldn't bear being in that room alone, knowing she was never coming back.

On the day of her burial, I lay awake for hours in the darkness. I just didn't want to accept that this was the day I would say my last goodbye to Haley. But lying there in the stillness of the night, in the quietness of the house, her death sunk in.

And I cried.

I cried since learning she was dead. Sobs that cut off my air supply, sobs that rocked my entire body and needed a pillow to muffle them.

I kept wishing for one more minute with her, a few seconds even. I just wanted to see her, to tell her how much I loved her, to hear her laugh, to tell her that I was sorry for being a shitty husband when I could have been a better husband.

I was exhausted after that, falling into a deep sleep until Luke woke me up.

I moved in slow motion that day, grief and sorrow wearing me down.

I wore the suit I'd worn the day I married Haley at the beach, pinning on my lapel one of those small purple daisies she liked.

I left Jamie at the daycare centre. He may have been a baby but there was no way I'd have taken him to the cemetery. He had been my strength for those lonely days before the burial but as much as I needed him, I couldn't drag him along to a graveyard.

There was quite a turnout at Haley's funeral. It was a chilly morning, and we all braved the cold to say goodbye to my wife. Relatives, friends, classmates.

Her entire family showed up, after neglecting her before she even turned eighteen. Sometimes I felt so angry with them for not being there for her but she always assured me that I was all she needed. I put all that aside on that day. I didn't have the energy to argue or point fingers.

Her parents were distraught, and I only saw them for a few minutes. None of us seemed to be able to talk when we saw each other. I simply hugged them, her mom crying and clinging onto me before the service began. Her father just squeezed my shoulder, apologizing repeatedly, her brothers and sisters sat quietly in the second row. I didn't know what to say to them and they didn't know what to say to me either.

I can't remember what the minister said. I had my head bowed down throughout, staring at the ground, or a patch of soil, or a moving bug. Anywhere but where she lay.

Lucas nudged me when it was time to lower the casket. I stood up, finally lifting my eyes, watching the black, shiny chest being lowered into the ground.

She was there.

My eyes followed it all the way down until it touched the base. Were it not for Luke's grip on my arm, I think I would have thrown myself into that grave.

A few handfuls of dirt, and then it was over. Just like that, it was over. She was really gone.

I stood there, the chilly breeze blowing past me, waiting until the gravediggers had covered up the grave. I felt people squeezing my shoulder, rubbing my back, shaking my hand and whispering things as they left the cemetery, but I barely paid attention.

Why? Why her? I asked no one in particular. What did she do to deserve such a cruel, early death?

I unpinned the purple flower from my lapel and placed it atop Haley's grave. Four words had been ringing through my mind for days: this can't be happening. Over and over again. I was in disbelief and shock, and I couldn't understand why she was gone.

There was a burning lump in my throat that just wasn't going away no matter how many times I swallowed.

Never again would I hear her laugh.

Never again would I look into her beautiful brown eyes or touch her soft skin.

Never again would Jamie feel his mother's arms holding him.

Never again would we have our family brunches.

Never again would we celebrate each other's birthdays.

Never again would we take cheesy family photos.

Never again would she have her friends over for some girl time.

I was short of breath summing up all sorts of scenarios that she would never be a part of until Luke came up to me. He asked me if I was alright and I felt myself nod.

I wasn't alright, but he didn't push it.

"Who picked it out?" I asked Luke, staring at the words etched against grey marble of the tombstone beside the grave.

_Haley James Scott  
Loving Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister and Friend  
Let it be forever remembered she was always a diamond to us_

She was a diamond to me. Always would be.

"You did," he said.

I couldn't remember doing that.

"Come on, Nate. Let's go."

He led me away by hand, and I followed him blindly to the car.

I looked back as we drove away, wishing repeatedly that I could see her again, that I could have a second chance. Wishing that when I got home, she'd be waiting by the door, pouting, asking me why I was late.

It never happened.

I haven't been back to the cemetery since.

My mom had picked Jamie up from daycare and he was the first person I looked for when we got home.

I carried him throughout the gathering of family and friends, and no one asked to hold him. I think they understood I needed him more than ever on that day.

* * *

I have never felt so fucking miserable and empty in my life. Ever.

And yet someone called me today to say that the wife I buried is alive.

Can I be honest with you? I'm terrified about leaving tomorrow. I'm terrified of what's ahead of me in New Jersey. I'm terrified that I'm headed towards disappointment when I'm expecting to see Haley.

What if it's not her? What if they called because she's dying? What if someone is just toying with me? What if she can't remember me? What if she can't remember Jamie?

At this rate, I'll never get to sleep.

It will be a long drive and I need to make sure I'm alert. I wouldn't want to put my son in danger because of my exhaustion.

I need to sleep. I have to sleep.

_One basketball…two basketballs…_Haley.


	12. Chapter 12

I'm jolted awake by the persistent soft melody of the alarm clock. 6.20.

I pad to the bathroom to take a hurried shower, somehow having slept through the previous alarm rings.

He's still asleep when I walk into the nursery; it's slightly dark outside and it's a bit too early for him to be up.

I manage to change him as he fusses from being woken, whispering calming words as I do.

My mom is already up, drinking coffee and reading the paper when I rush downstairs with Jamie. He's whimpering over my shoulder as I step into the kitchen.

I kiss his cheek and rub his back.

"Sorry, bud. I didn't mean to wake you, but we have to get moving."

"Morning, honey."

"Morning. Can you hold him while I get our things?"

She puts her cup down and takes him from my arms.

I rush out of the kitchen, taking the stairs two at a time. We're not very late but I'm quite anxious to get on the road.

Since our bags are already packed, all I need to do is arrange them in the small trunk of my car. I'm just about to open the front door when my mom calls out to me.

"Nate."

It's a harsh whisper. Jamie must be asleep.

"Yeah?"

"Take your father's truck," she speaks softly. "It's spacious and it can fit you all easily. Yours is just too small for everyone and everything. And honestly, I'm not comfortable with you driving for miles in your metal bucket."

"Jeez, Mom. It's a good car."

Uncle Keith helped me fix it up when Haley and I got married. Our first car together.

Will there be more or am I just setting myself up for another round of heartbreak by taking this trip?

She shakes her head. "You can use that good car to take you to work but when you're driving down highways with my grandson, I'd rather you be in a better, stronger car."

We've never driven past the state line with Jamie in that car.

"Just take it. I don't use it, anyway. I wanted to sell it after the divorce but I never got to it. I emptied it of all your dad's crap so it's clean."

She pulls out the keys from a drawer in the table on the hallway.

"Thanks, Mom. I appreciate it."

She kisses Jamie's cheek. "Anything for him."

Luke is already waiting outside his house. He jogs over to the car as I come to a stop.

"Your mom gave you the truck?" he asks, stashing his bag in the trunk.

"Yeah. She didn't want me driving my crappy bucket for such a long distance."

He laughs, settling in the passenger seat. "She's probably right. The chances of it breaking down on us are very high, you know."

I look sideways at him, pulling the car back onto the street. "Cars break down even if they're fancy. I hope you know how to fix this one if it goes bust on us," I say as I place my hand on the dashboard.

"You work in a garage, Nate."

I grin and slap him on the shoulder. "I'm an apprentice. You have years of experience, big brother."

We make small talk as we avoid the elephant in the room. Or rather, the elephant in the car. Haley.

"Did he fall asleep from your house to mine?" Luke asks as he rubs Jamie's leg through his light green onesie.

"Nah. He's been asleep throughout. I swear sometimes he sleeps like his mom."

Getting Haley up from a deep sleep, especially when she's tired, is like trying to rouse someone who's been drugged.

And there's the opening Luke must have been waiting for.

"Tell me again what they told you?" Luke asks.

I don't answer immediately.

"Haley's in a hospital in Newark, she was in a coma, woke up a few days ago and she asked for me."

I honestly don't feel like talking. I'd rather be left alone with my thoughts. But it's better I talk than think ugly things and what if's.

"It's like something from the movies, Nate."

"I know. Pretty scary. And you know the worst thing about it?"

"What?"

"Haley has no one there."

She woke up to no familiar face. She woke up to strangers in lab coats and stethoscopes and squeaky shoes in a strange city.

She had no one.

I've never driven down so far. When I was in Florida for High Flyers, I flew there.

We've been driving in shifts every two hours. It's a long drive to New Jersey, a little over ten hours.

If my mind were on it, I'd enjoy the ride. But a road trip without Haley is just boring. Don't get me wrong, Luke is a fun guy, but we're both not in the mood to admire the landscape when our best friend is alone in a hospital miles away from home.

I find myself remembering things Haley and I did while we were dating, just a few months before I asked her to marry me. Like the first Christmas.

She was away visiting one of her siblings with her parents, and my mom convinced me to go to Charlotte with her to share the holidays with her side of the family.

Haley and I texted back and forth about crazy relatives and how much it sucked being apart that my mom threatened to swipe my phone for the rest of the trip.

She did end up taking it away but she forgot that landlines still existed. Uncle Cooper wasn't too happy when the phone bill came.

"What are you smiling at?"

It's only when Luke speaks up that I realize I'm actually smiling. Not a forced smile, but a real, rare one. My facial muscles feel a little strained because I haven't actually smiled genuinely in a while.

"Just anxious," I mumble.

The first lengthy road trip we took as a couple was while we were still dating.

She had been dropping hints about wanting to attend a book festival in Raleigh that took place every two years. I pretended to ignore them, intending to surprise her with tickets.

We ended up making out in one of the barns at the festival, missing almost all of the presentations. By the time we remembered why we were there, the closing ceremony was just about to begin.

It's not often that in the past fifty-three days that I've actually felt joy when I remember moments with Haley. The simple fact that I'm on the way to confirming whether it's my Haley who is alive has given me a fraction of that joy I felt when we talked endlessly that Christmas or messed around in the hay during the book festival.

Jamie has his fist in his mouth, and he's rubbing his gums like crazy.

"You want your teething ring?"

At the sound of my voice, he turns his head away from the window. A tiny trail of drool slides down the corner of his mouth when he hums a response.

"Have others come out yet?" Luke asks.

"Still the lower ones. Could you please look for the teething ring in his bag? It's right behind your seat."

"Where is it?" he asks, rummaging through the bag.

"Look for a circular storage case. Just pick whichever of the three rings."

"He looks so relieved," Luke chuckles as Jamie chews noisily with his eyes closed.

"Teething can be painful and it makes babies uncomfortable."

He looks at me and says, "You're doing a really good job with him, Nate. Haley will be so proud of you."

"Yeah…"

I never realized just how much of a team effort raising a child was until Haley…died? Disappeared? I don't know what to describe it now.

We shared the parenting responsibilities and doing it alone has been tough. Without the support of family and friends, it would have been harder.

The rest of the drive is pretty quiet. Jamie naps on and off, and we take rest stops to stretch our legs.

We get to the hospital's parking lot at dusk. There's a cold feeling in my heart, my hands are clammy and that thumping is back in my chest.

I don't know about Luke but I'm very anxious to see my wife. More than anxious. I'm nervous, I'm scared and I'm excited. To be honest, I'm more scared shitless than anything.

We get to New Jersey late. Jamie is out like a light when we walk towards the hospital, car rides having a sleepy effect on him. I have lost count of the number of times I thank God that he's an easy kid. It's hard enough making sure he's clean, fed and rested; if he were a difficult baby, I would have jumped out a fucking window sometime.

There's a bored-looking nurse at the reception desk, chewing on the tip of her pen, a crossword puzzle before her.

"Hi. My name is Nathan Scott and someone called me about my wife, Haley S—"

She holds up a forefinger when the phone rings.

I take a step back and look around the waiting room. There are a few dozen people seated, some who look like they're in pain, others who just look anxious.

Beside me, Luke has his hands in his pockets and he's shuffling from foot to foot.

"You okay?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Yeah. Sure. I'm cool. I'm okay. Yeah. I'm fine."

Lucas has never been a poster child for calmness when in anxious situations. He's patient and levelheaded enough to wait months for a girl to declare she loves him but when it comes to waiting on news about family, he just unravels. Like when Karen was in labour with Lily. Or when Haley was with Jamie. He looked worse than the fathers-to-be.

"You're not fine, man. You're sweating."

He shoots me a sharp look, and like I knew he would, he wipes the back of his hand across his brow.

"Visiting hours are over so you'll have to come back tomorrow," the nurse drawls after she hangs up.

Is she fucking kidding me? I'm not even here to visit.

"But we've driven for hours to get here."

She shakes her head. "Visiting hours are over. Come back tomorrow."

"Please. Five minutes. My wife was brought here after that train wreck in New Jersey two months ago. She was in a coma and now she's awake. I thought she died. _We_ thought she died. We buried her. This is her son. He wants to see his mother. Please."

I don't care if I sound like a petulant child or if I look stupid. I just want to see Haley.

She looks at Jamie over the rim of her glasses. "He looks asleep to me."

"Five minutes. That's all I ask. Please," I beg through tightened lips.

Still looking over her humongous glasses, she says, "No. Tomorrow."

There's a large current of anger and desperation flowing through me and I feel like yanking those gigantic frames off her evil face.

Before I can beg any more, Luke places a hand on my shoulder.

"Nate."

I look at him for a moment before turning back to the nurse.

"Fine. Tomorrow," I say through gritted teeth, cursing myself for not knowing any ancient curses to throw at her.

She all but rolls her eyes.

We find a motel close to the hospital. The room is decent, and I was worried we would be walking into a haven for cockroaches and rats.

Being told to wait until tomorrow has just made me more overwrought. I'm still having an internal round of darts at a mounted image of that horrid nurse as I pull out Jamie's things. What part of "in a coma for two months and we just found out" did she not understand? Would threatening to sue them to hell and back have sufficed?

After feeding Jamie, I prop him up on pillows on one of the beds, waiting for Lucas to finish up in the bathroom.

"Are you tired?"

His small fists punch the air before he reaches for my face. I kiss his palms soundly and he giggles.

"You need your rest, you know. It's going to be a big day tomorrow because we are seeing your mom."

"Mmmm!"

"That's right. Mommy! Mommy! Mo—"

"Bathroom's free," Luke says as he steps back into the room, in only a towel.

"Really?"

He shrugs. "What? It's not like I have boobs."

I shake my head, grabbing the remote and switching on the TV.

"Which one tonight? Cartoons or the weather channel?"

I hold the remote close to Jamie's fingers and he punches the buttons until Daffy Duck quacks on screen.

"Excellent choice, my friend. Luke, can you watch him?"

He waves his phone at me, murmuring into it and giving me a thumbs up.

"No screaming, Jame. I'll be right back, okay?"

I place the remote on the table before grabbing my things and heading to the bathroom. I often leave the TV on nowadays for Jamie, after noticing that the light from it fascinates him. And it makes him sleepy, especially after his bath.

The first time I realized its effects, I had just stepped out of the room for a minute to grab his socks and when I walked back in, he was asleep with his small, diapered butt up in the air. Definitely, I took a picture. Haley will love it, I know.

I can never leave Jamie alone and unattended to. I can't leave him for a few seconds even if it's to ask for the sugar dish from another table at a restaurant. I can never turn my head without wrapping an arm around his back while reading a magazine headline. It takes a second for everything to go straight to hell. I've read enough stories about crazy people stealing babies from strollers and houses to last me a lifetime.

As usual, I'm awake late in the night. Jamie's soft breathing is the only sound in the quiet room, and there's a club somewhere down the street that's still open.

I'm finding it hard to sleep considering the circumstances. Tomorrow can't get here fast enough.

The last time I had an uninterrupted all-night sleep was the night before Haley left for New York. My body may be stocking up sleep for the next forty-five years.

"Luke, are you awake?"

"Yeah."

I turn my head to the side and look at my brother on the other bed.

"I can't sleep," I sigh in the dark.

"Me, either."

"I'm worried, I'm scared, I'm excited…"

"I know. God, this is kind of bizarre," he breathes out.

"I feel like breaking in."

"Break in? At the hospital? Are you shitting me?"

"I just want to know that she's okay. Wouldn't you think about doing that for Peyton?"

If he can threaten her father with a garden rake, he can break into a hospital for her.

"Maybe. But I wouldn't say it out loud."

We leave each other to our own thoughts.

"Good night," I whisper after a while.

"Good night," he replies softly.

I roll over, wrapping an arm around Jamie, shutting my eyes.

_One basketball…two basketballs…three basketballs…_Haley.


	13. Chapter 13

I wake up to the smell of coffee. I'm groggy as I open my eyes, to see Luke swinging a takeaway cup directly under my nose.

"Morning, sleepyhead. We gotta go."

I sit up and greedily reach for the cup. "What time is it?"

"Almost eight."

The coffee trickles down my dry throat, some of it shooting straight to my head and waking me up some. It took me an extra hour to finally sleep last night.

Looking around, I see Jamie playing with his feet on Luke's bed.

"I already changed him. You have five minutes."

"We're not in prison or boot camp, Luke."

He just squints at me.

"Fine. I'm going," I grumble as I slide off the bed and head for the bathroom.

After a quick shower and downing the now-warm coffee, we start the walk to the hospital.

You'd think we'd be walking faster but it's like we're both dragging our feet, as if we're subconsciously dreading getting there.

We barely speak, making inane comments about the weather in Newark, each of us spooked out by what is about to happen.

When we get to the hospital, the nurse at the reception, not The Grim Reaper from last night, directs us to the ICU. At the ICU, we are told to wait for the doctor.

You know that feeling you have on Christmas morning? The one where your parents are forcing you to wait when all you want to do is run to the tree and rip open your presents? Like your feet are on fire and you could run off at any moment?

I have that feeling; butterflies in my stomach, anxiety, excitement and fear, all mixed together.

It's now real. In a few minutes, I'll be seeing my wife.

She's been here all along.

Alone.

"Mr. Scott?"

A dark-haired, middle-aged man in glasses and a lab coat is approaching us.

I stand, adjusting Jamie on my shoulder. "Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Thomas. I've been in charge of your wife since she was brought in," he says with an extended hand.

"Call me Nathan. This is my brother Lucas and my son Jamie," I say as we shake hands.

"Good to meet you. I know this is a very difficult time for you. Your wife is awake and she's quite anxious to see you. I know you're just as eager to see her but I'd like to update you on her condition before you go in."

"Okay."

"Your wife was found in one of the bathrooms on the train. The wreckage was quite horrific and they had a hard time finding survivors, but they did find her. In time, I should say because she was brought in with a deep cut on her head, a broken leg, a sprained wrist, several broken ribs, a punctured lung, multiple cuts on her face and there was a shard of metal that had pierced through her stomach."

I swallow back the hard, bitter lump in my throat as the doctor speaks on. I can't believe that Haley was dealing with all this shit alone.

"Having been found underneath rubble, her leg had been broken in several places. The metal rod in her stomach pierced through to her womb and we had to do an emergency hysterectomy to stop the severed abdominal artery from bleeding out."

"A what? A hysterectomy? Does that mean that she…that she can't—"

I'm whispering because all he's telling us sounds so fucking unbelievable.

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but your wife will not be able to have any more children."

Holy shit. How did Haley take it when they told her?

"Does she know?"

He nods. "She knows everything."

Lucas, after being quiet for so long asks, "Is her memory okay? Does she have amnesia?"

"No. After such a blow to her head, she surprisingly has her full memory."

He looks excited, as if he has just found the perfect case to get him published in a medical journal. Is that why they didn't look for us?

"What?" he asks, looking at me.

Did I say it out loud?

"What?"

His eyes dart back and forth between me and Luke. "We couldn't tell who she was but she finally came out of her coma and asked us to call you."

"Couldn't you have run her fingerprints through the police system? I'm sure you'd have found her because she has a bit of a record."

Lucas is angry as he says this.

I feel it, too. How could they just pass by her room day after day, hour after hour and not wonder where she came from? How could they examine her without being curious about whose daughter she was? Whose friend she was?

"In situations like these, we just let them play out."

Play out? What the hell is wrong with this hospital? And how many times has this happened for it to be termed "situations like these"?

"What about contacting the police about unidentified and injured survivors? That train wreck was on the news for fucking weeks!" Luke yells.

The doctor hesitates before he answers. "The hospital board advised us to wait because it would create a media circus …"

I'm getting weary of listening to this guy and his excuses. Someone was just too lazy to look for Haley's family.

"Is that all? I'd like to see my wife," I snap, clenching my jaw.

"Yes."

I think we may have spooked him.

"I can wait, Nate," Luke says.

He looks scared and nervous. It's probably a reflection of what is on my face.

I nod before I follow the doctor down the corridor.

"She's been recovering very fast. The wound on her head has healed considerably well and the cuts on her face are gone, too. She just has the wound from the abdominal surgery and a broken leg to look after," he says.

Jamie's calm on my shoulder, sucking on his teething ring as we walk the seeming endlessly-long hallway.

I've always hated hospitals. And with the way members of my family end up in hospitals every once in a while, you can't blame me for despising the place.

The doctor stops at a door close to the end.

"Well…Good luck, Mr. Scott," Dr. Thomas mumbles before he scuttles down the corridor.

I hope it's good.

Staring at the door, my feet feel rooted to the spot, my heart is racing madly and my palms feel sweaty. I'm so nervous that I feel like throwing up. There's that cold but warm, hollow feeling in my gut, like there's a fizzing ice block in my stomach.

This is it. Holy shit, this is it.

I know I have to go in. I _need_ to go in. Despite my uncertainties and fears, I have to know. I _have to_ see her. Whoever she is.

I shut my eyes tightly for a moment and wet my dry mouth. I hold Jamie closer, kissing the faint beauty spot on his jaw.

"You ready, Jame? You want to see your mom?"

He makes a suckling noise in agreement.

"Yeah? Okay. Me, too."

Taking an audible breath, I grip the door handle, turning it slowly and stepping into the room.

It's surprisingly quiet. I was expecting to hear machines beeping and respirators pumping. Because of the window and the open curtains, the room is bright.

She's on the bed sitting up at an angle, her face looking away from the door, her left leg in a cast propped up by pillows, dark blonde hair spread out on the pillow.

There's a beauty spot on her exposed neck, just above her collarbone, another on her jaw, and the small one right on her ear.

Holy shit, it's her.

She makes no movement to indicate that she's heard me walk in. I try to say something but I can't.

Jamie wiggles in my arms and when he sees her, he gurgles.

I watch her react.

Her body tenses, then stills. I can hear her breathing heavily. I can see her chest moving up and down. And then I hear a sob.

"Nathan?"

Her voice is hoarse, dry.

She's not turning my way. I think she's afraid to look, in case it isn't real.

Just like I am. I'm afraid that if I close my eyes and then open them, I'll be in the guestroom back at home. Alone.

"Haley."

Slowly, she rolls her head until she's looking at me.

I swear I hear an orchestra, accompanied by a choir of angels. I'm also feeling faint.

Those brown eyes I had thought were forever locked in sleep are looking back at me. My heart feels like it's at my throat, begging to be freed.

Blinking against the tears in my eyes, I just stare at her and walk slowly towards the bed. She's tearing up, her lips trembling as she sits up slowly on the bed.

I take a seat at the edge of it, afraid to touch her, afraid that I may hurt her. She looks thinner and paler but she's perfect.

She's just…alive. Haley's alive.

She seems so far away from me so I inch closer to her. And closer.

I reach my hand out to touch her face just to make sure I'm not dreaming. She closes her eyes when I cup her cheek and a tear makes its way slowly down her cheek.

I follow its path with my eyes, rubbing it away gently with my thumb before it touches her lips.

She opens her eyes and then looks at me. Her mouth is quivering and she's blinking back tears feverishly.

"Hi."

"Hi…"

I let out a laugh, drawing her to me and just hugging her.

I hug my wife who I thought was dead. I hug her and kiss her hair, her temple, her forehead, her cheek, her nose.

Not saying anything, I pull back and look into her eyes. I cradle her cheek in my palm and caress her jaw with my thumb.

I could pinch her to really make sure she's not going to dissolve into ash, but I'm choosing to believe that this is not a fucking dream.

I lean forward to kiss her, and when our lips touch, the world just fades away. It's a kiss born of an ache so deep that I feel my soul restored.

Everything we're both feeling we pour into that kiss. Hunger. Love. Relief. Joy.

"Nathan…Nathan…hi!"

She's touching my face, running her hands through my hair and kissing me everywhere.

"You came!"

I kiss her again. "Of course I did, you goof."

We're kissing and hugging and touching and laughing and crying until Jamie fusses between us.

We laugh as we part, and I pass him to her.

"Oh my God, he's become so big! And he has teeth!"

She laughs through her tears. "Holy shit, my baby! Hi, baby! Hi, Jamie!"

Jamie squeals as she kisses every part of his face.

"Hi! Did you miss me? I missed you so much!"

He clutches a fistful of her hair, nuzzling his head on her neck, as if to tell her that he missed her, too.

Tears are running freely down Haley's cheeks as she rubs his back.

"Mama missed you so so much, Jame," she says to him softly.


	14. Chapter 14

I didn't know what it was like to live without someone until Haley.

Just breathing – existing – without her was like being in war with my own mortality, fighting desperation, agony, fear and pain.

Every day, I had to force myself to get out of bed. I had to keep going despite the suffering I carried with me. But that hollowness has been replaced by something warmer, a feeling of brightness, clarity and glow.

"I've missed you so madly," she says, her voice thick as we kiss for the hundredth time.

Her fingers are clawing through my hair, clutching fistfuls of it like it's her lifeline. She has a habit of holding onto my hair when we kiss.

"I missed you, too," I respond, my throat tight.

I run my fingers down the side of her face. "I can't believe you're really here."

Jesus, I can't. It's like I've been resurrected. The me I was three days ago is a hazy memory, a distorted dream.

"I'm here," she whispers brokenly.

She buries her head in my chest, Jamie between us kicking his legs up in the air.

"I-I love you," she cries out breathlessly. "Both of you. I love you so much…"

I hold her tighter, rubbing her arm up and down as she starts to sob. My heart is breaking as I comfort her, but it's also restoring…

I felt so defeated when she died, absolutely broken and beyond repair. Not anymore.

We talk about nothings and somethings, we laugh, we whisper, we kiss a lot, laugh some more at Jamie's antics. Just like we used to.

Later, I drop my feet off the bed. I don't want to tear myself away from her but I have to.

"Where are you going?"

There is that pout I've missed so much.

"I'll be right back," I tell her with a kiss. I don't want to go but I have to.

"But—"

"It's nothing bad, I promise."

She holds my face in her hands for another kiss. "Don't stay away too long."

"I won't."

Luke is reading a magazine at the reception and when he spots me, he gets up immediately.

"How is she? Is she okay? Is it her? What's wrong?"

I just can't stop smiling as I take the bags from him.

"She's fine. I haven't told her you came with me. She'll be really happy to see you, Luke."

He's probably wondering how she'll react to seeing him. He turns back to look at me as he stands outside the door. I nod and give him an encouraging smile. Before long, he'll be as lightheaded as I am right now.

He smiles in return, taking a deep breath before opening the door.

I'm gone for a while, giving them time to reunite like he did for me.

It's been two long months, a series of dark days, but today…this is a good day.

Fifteen minutes later, after a too-strong cup of coffee in the cafeteria and a scone, I go back up.

Their eyes are puffy and red-rimmed when I walk back into the room.

"Good one, baby," Haley sniffles.

"I'm glad you liked it," I tell her, giving her a kiss.

"I'm here, you know," Luke says.

"I know."

Dropping the bags to the floor, I pat his shoulder, passing Haley the bottle of formula that I had asked to be warmed for in the cafeteria.

I'd weaned Jamie into soft baby food and formula after Haley's "death", so he doesn't seem all that interested in reaching for her boobs.

She settles him in the crook of her elbow and waves the bottle. "Look at what your dad brought you! Isn't he the sweetest? Are you hungry?"

He pulls at the neck of her gown and she leans down to kiss his nose, both of them giggling.

"You are? Let's get you fed before you get crabby, then."

Do you find it odd that we talk to Jamie? I don't think it is. Hales and I just like talking to Jamie, even when she was pregnant.

Sometimes late at night, when I was sure she was dead to the world, I'd wake up and talk to him. With my hand protectively over her stomach, I would whisper quietly, feeling light taps and kicks now and then, telling him about my day, about his mom, about what was waiting for him. Even though we hadn't planned for him so early, I loved that kid before he was born.

As she feeds him, she coos and talks to him, and gives him kisses throughout, singing him to sleep after he's done. I think he'd missed that. I know I had.

"Are you hungry?" I ask her, pulling out the cup of warm chicken noodle soup from the bag. I figured she would be and since hospital food leaves a lot to be desired, I found a diner that served soup.

"Starving. The food here is not that scrumptious."

"I think the word you're looking for is shitty," I say in a flat tone.

She laughs. "The Jell-O is not too bad, though. Beats my homemade one by far."

We spend the day in her room, even after multiple warnings from nurses about visiting hours being over.

I think Dr. Thomas told them to let us be after all that's happened. I also think he's afraid we might slap them with a lawsuit.

When night rolls around, I find Dr. Thomas and convince him to let Jamie and I stay the night. It wasn't that hard of a task, anyway. I didn't get to use any of the threats I had prepared had he fought me on it. One of them included "chafes" and "my ass".

Luke returns to the motel to call home with news. Just between you and me, I'm feeling a little too selfish with my wife to call anyone. I just want her to myself before everyone else swarms in.

"You've changed," she says quietly.

We are on the bed, talking, Jamie having already fallen asleep between us. Like the old times.

I tip my head back slightly. "What do you mean?"

She raises her head from my shoulder and props her chin in her hand, her eyes filled with worry as they cruise my face.

"Yeah. Like you're somehow…broken."

When she says that, my chest constricts painfully. "You died, Hales."

She watches me, in that intense way like she can see right through me. Then she lifts her hand and touches her palm to my cheek.

"We'll put you back together again, Humpty Dumpty."

I suppress a grin, my lips brushing across her forehead.

That dark cloud that was hanging over my head is gone, relief flashing through me nearly every minute from the moment I saw her.

She fires off questions about everyone at home before asking me how I've been the last two months.

This is my best friend, the one person I can tell anything without reservation. I've never been ashamed to cry in front of her, ever since that night I went to her house after collapsing on the court from taking steroids.

She did not judge me for crying, or for the stupid decision I'd made to take them. I fell in love with her that moment I saw her, her eyes looking at me intently with pure worry, instead of condemnation.

"I missed this," I tell her with a kiss to her temple.

She kisses me softly on the lips. "Me, too."

I want to ask her about the accident but it's been an emotionally tiring day. There's always tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to hold her, and hear her talk and laugh.

Pretty soon, she's exhausted. A goofy smile spreads across my face as I look at her. I could just look at her, but my exhaustion has caught up with me.

Jamie stirs in his sleep and I rub his hair until he relaxes. This is how it's supposed to be, Haley, Jamie and me. I've wanted this badly for months, badly enough to plead and bargain with God on rewinding time in exchange for reaching out to my dad. I was willing to do _anything_ to get her back.

It feels so easy, so light, so natural.

We may not be able to have any more children but that doesn't mean it's over for us. As long as we have each other, as long as we have Jamie, that's enough for me. But is it enough for her?


	15. Chapter 15

When I wake up, like I've subconsciously done the last few months, I reach for Haley.

Unlike all those days and weeks when my hand would land on nothing but a cold pillow and sheet, I touch warmth and softness.

My eyes shoot open, needing to make sure that I'm not lost in that sea of dreams and wishful thinking.

She's as solid as reality. I wasn't dreaming. She really is here.

Lifting up on an elbow, I take in her soft face, perfectly calm and peaceful, her even breathing, her lips plump and pink, her hand resting over Jamie's thigh. Looking closer, I see the healed scars from the cuts she endured in the crash. There's one that runs in a curve from the corner of her right eye to her cheekbone. There's another on her chin that's a little more jagged. Then there are smaller ones, most likely from the glass that flew in her face. They may be faint, but I can see the difference, and I can't fathom how she endured that kind of suffering on her own.

Her lips curve up in a tiny smile, something I noticed since those nights long ago when I would spend them over at her house. I always wonder what she's dreaming about to make her smile like that, and it is so ridiculously adorable that I never told her about it.

I haven't felt this well rested in months. I also feel lucky. How many have a second chance like this with someone they love?

This is the do-over, what I've been begging for this whole time.

Jamie's small fist is hitting my chest like to get my attention. I can't help but tickle the back of his knees. He lets out a squealy laugh and kicks his legs up in the air.

"You sleep okay?"

He giggles, his hands reaching for my face. I find it weird that he's instantly alert when he wakes up; that's all him because between me and Haley, we need caffeine to rouse us.

Haley stirs as I'm blowing raspberries on Jamie's tummy. She opens her eyes slowly, and it reminds me of the morning after we got married. I swear it feels the same.

"Morning," she says sleepily.

I bend my head down and press my lips to hers. "Morning."

Her fingers rise to my face, and I gently touch the tip of my tongue to her lower lip. A low sound escapes from her and she pushes her tongue in my mouth as we kiss in what feels like slow motion.

Jamie is hitting my chest again. We pull apart slowly, realization dawning on us.

"I'll kiss you later. When your son isn't jealous of his dad getting some."

"Nathan!"

"What? Someone wants to say hi to you. Don't you want to cuddle with your mom, Jame?"

Fist in mouth, he burbles incoherently as I pass him to Haley.

I rifle through my bag for toiletries and a change of clothes. I had no intentions of leaving Haley last night and if I had to sneak in and stay with her, I would have. Like when we used to date and I'd slip into her room by climbing through her bedroom window, especially when my dad was giving me a hard time. She really got me through some shitty times.

They put her in a private room, with a bare but clean bathroom. The mirror shows me the same tired face I've been looking at for weeks, but where that guy's eyes looked like they were suffering a permanent hangover, mine are sharp and aware.

My wife is beyond that door, alive and healing from a trauma that's affected her and everyone who loves her.

Each time I look at her, I'm reminded of what had vanished within me. It was an ugly feeling in a million ways, thinking I had lost her, especially in such a cruel way.

But right now, I think I've been resuscitated, revived from a horrendous nightmare I could never wake from.

This whole tragedy has changed something in me. I'm guilty of doing pretty shitty things in the past, and I don't think I'm anywhere close to being a stellar human being. But the one promise I can make right now is that I'm going to appreciate Haley more than I did before. I owe it to her to be the kind of guy she hoped to be with for the rest of her life, and I owe it to myself to be the kind of man I hoped to be.

After my shower, I scout us breakfast from the cafeteria and heating up Jamie's food while I'm down there.

"I can't believe he's already on cereal."

She drives the spoon into Jamie's mouth as he sits propped up on pillows beside her. I haven't offered or protested to feed him since last night, giving her the chance to do what she has been unable to do for months.

"He's not going off to college yet."

Looking teary, she runs the napkin over a pinch of cereal on Jamie's chin. She always tears up when she thinks about him growing up.

"I know, but I've just missed so much in the last two months."

I kiss her cheek and move off the bed to grab the camera.

"Don't worry. I took pictures."

She looks up in surprise, the cereal-filled spoon suspended midair. "You did?"

I simply nod, not telling her that the intentions behind the photography were those that would send me to an asylum.

"Why? You didn't even like taking photographs before my accident."

With a shrug that feels nothing like casual, I settle back on the bed. "I got into it."

She squints at me suspiciously and hums softly agreeably. Jamie, probably annoyed for being ignored, kicks his legs between us.

When she's done feeding him, she places him on my lap and reaches for the camera.

We look through the pictures as I tell her when they were taken and what was happening in each one. Can you believe I'm the same guy who was telling you I was crazy for doing this with the ghost of my wife?

Before we've even gotten to the tenth one of Jamie, she's already in tears.

"I've missed so much," she sobs, reaching for him.

"We'll take more pictures," I whisper, rubbing her back. "This time you'll be in them."

She nods repeatedly, her head bowed down as she wipes at the tears in her eyes.

"I-I know, but I just really wish I'd been there."

She dissolves into another bout of tears, resting her cheek on the top of Jamie's head. I just let her cry it out without saying anything.

In typical Haley fashion, she's chuckling at her crying jag as she dabs at the corners of her eyes.

"God, I'm such a fucking mess. Sorry, baby, Mama didn't mean to curse."

I angle my head toward hers, tracing random patterns on her lower back with my hand.

"Is it weird that I missed your dirty mouth?"

She laughs at this, wiping at her cheeks. "You're a very special man, Nathan."

She peels off Jamie away from where he's clambering on her torso and hands him to me. "Can you help me to the shower?"

Due to the cased leg and difficulty in balancing, I carry her to the bathroom. She also needs assistance showering, but you don't hear me complaining.

It scares the shit out of me that I can see the outlines of her ribs. Haley has never been sharp elbows and protruding bones, and I desperately want my wife back. I want to buy her three plates of fries and burgers, force her to eat them like some kind of kinky game.

Jamie is napping, but I can't help but look out the door every few seconds just to make sure he's still there. The room's door may be closed but even you know that's not enough to stop mad people from taking babies.

"I brought you some things," I say as she's drying off.

I reach for the bag on the floor and take out her toothbrush, hairbrush, slippers and clothes. She's beaming like I've just revealed her favourite dessert.

"Oh, honey, thank you! My clothes were ruined so I've been wearing this…thing…" she says, tying the towel tightly around her and pulling at the hospital gown on the counter.

I laugh, putting a finger through the gown's opening. "Must have been breezy."

She swats my arm and leans back on the counter. I help her into the clothes, and because of the cast, she opts for a skirt over jeans. She can also only wear one slipper for that reason.

"I should go check on Jamie," I tell her.

It really makes me antsy when I think of him disappearing from my life.

Balancing on one leg and on her crutches, Haley is leaning against my chest and squeezing out toothpaste onto her toothbrush.

"He's fine since the last time you checked, Nathan. It's a hospital."

Haley's more grounded than me when it comes to Jamie.

"Hales, do you know how many babies are stolen from hospitals? A shitload. And we've been in the bathroom for way too long."

She looks at me through the mirror and says, "Babe, I know reading all those statistics freaked you out but it doesn't mean it will happen to us."

I was more than freaked out; I was on high alert. Anyone who looked at Jamie funny was suspected of kidnapping. Anyone who stared at Jamie for too long was suspected of kidnapping.

She was the voice of reason, but I couldn't stop my voice of paranoia from chiming in once in a while.

"Hales, how many stories have we read of people who said the same thing?"

"You realize that you're nudging my neuroses awake?"

"I'd rather not take the chance."

"I know, but we don't need to be so overprotective."

"You think this is overprotective?"

A smile dances at the corners of her lips as she leans over the sink to turn on the tap. "I hope you're not thinking of home schooling him."

"Me? You're the tutor."

She laughs, her eyes closing when the toothbrush touches her mouth. She groans in bliss.

"Happy?" I ask amusedly.

She gives me a thumbs up, eyes still closed.

"Good."

I want her to be happy, to never feel what I did when I was without her. I know some things are out of my control but I want to…protect her. I promised I would when we exchanged our wedding vows and I never want to break my promises to her.

"I'll be right back."

I drop a kiss on her temple before stepping back into the room.

"So I'm thinking that—"

I freeze when I see the empty bed. Holy Jesus, I fucking knew it.

Panic and fright surge straight through me. I take two strides to the bed and lift the covers off. Who took him? Someone who thought he was abandoned?

"Haley, Jamie's gone!"

She hobbles on one foot to the bathroom door, eyes wide open and toothbrush in hand.

"What do you mean he's gone? Gone where!?" she hollers.

"I don't know!"

"Is he crawling!? He's not crawling, Nathan! Did he fall off the bed!?" she screams.

Her panic is making my panic spike to epic levels. Freaking out and fearful, I drop down to my knees to look under the bed.

"No! We need to call the police!"

"Call them!"

The door suddenly opens and I look up to see Lucas walking in, carrying Jamie in one arm and holding a tray with takeaway coffee cups in his other hand.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Shit!"

"Fuck!"

I scramble off the floor, taking the few steps between us to reach for Jamie. It didn't occur to me that Lucas would be the one who had taken him.

"What the shit, Lucas! I thought some psycho woman obsessed with stealing babies had kidnapped him! Is he okay?"

I think I was about to have a heart attack. There is only so much psychological stress I can handle. My tunnel vision is slowly clearing as Jamie pats my face.

"I don't think so. We were making a blood brothers pact and the cut in his palm went deeper than I thought…"

I turn over Jamie's palms and Luke snickers. I want to give him a smack on the back of his head.

"You scared us to death, man."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to. I just didn't want to barge into the bathroom during your…"

I sigh raggedly. Sometimes I swear my big brother is a twelve-year-old boy in health class.

"We were not having sex."

"Don't be crude."

"You realize that your nephew isn't here by Immaculate Conception?"

He narrows his eyes at me. "How can I not have thought _that_ when you two were giggling like morons? I thought I'd take him with me to the cafeteria for some coffee and give you some time alone."

"Believe me, you'd know when we were having sex."

His face grows pale, and it feeds my satisfaction.

"Nathan?" Haley calls from the bathroom.

"Don't go anywhere," I say to Lucas, passing Jamie to him.

"There's a strip club across the street if you want me to initiate him this early."

"Lucas."

He smirks. "Alright, alright. Christ, you're uptight."

"Fuck you."

I carry Haley back to the bed, drawing the covers to her waist. She feels so light that it scares me.

"Thank you. Luke, why would you steal my baby?"

"Our baby, Hales. Don't be so possessive."

"Oh, hush."

Luke gives Jamie to Haley, who immediately reaches for her face, grabbing her cheek.

"I thought you were having sex. Tea?" Luke says as he thrusts the tray between us.

I'm impressed that he actually mentioned that we have sex. To him, we are just roommates who hold hands and share expenses.

Haley frowns at the cup, turning it from side to side. "Why am I not getting coffee?"

She loves coffee, and she's often asking for lattes and toppings that are a mouthful to order for.

"Because you're on a hospital bed," he responds.

"I have a broken leg, not the flu."

"You have a very serious wound. And probably a fractured skull," I add.

She appraises the cup grudgingly, her lips curving up to the side a little like in a growl.

"Abomination," she groans bleakly before taking a drink.

Meet the theatrical side of my wife.

* * *

Lucas is telling Haley about his published story in the school paper. She's thrilled for him.

When she asks what it was about, he seems hesitant to tell her.

"You," he admits.

"Me? What about me?"

He reaches for her hand, saying in a quiet, uneven voice, "Losing my best friend."

His words hang heavy over us. Goosebumps burst across my skin at the way she closes her eyes and hangs her head.

I read an excerpt of the story when he showed it to me, the week following the funeral. It was a bloody tearjerker.

He has always been good with words and the raw pain that he expressed in it made me blink back so many tears that I couldn't read any more.

Dr. Thomas' entrance breaks the somber mood. We all seem to stretch away from each other to turn to the doctor.

"Good morning."

He looks a little too cheerful, his smile glued on and forged. Trying to make amends?

I still think he's afraid of the lawsuit. If I were looking for someone to pay for making my wife's past two months hell, I'd start with the hospital. And then move on to the railway service. But I'm not that vindictive. Not anymore, at least. If I still possessed Dan Scott's bitter gene, I probably would. I am furious that they didn't look for me but adding legal drama to all this would be pointless.

We all mumble a good morning to him.

"Mrs. Scott, since your husband is here, you can be discharged today. But before you go, there are a few things you need to know."

"Okay," she says as she plays with Jamie, clapping his hands together.

Luke stretches his legs out before him and leans back on the bed with the support of his elbows. I'm lying against the pillows on the bed beside Haley, watching Dr. Thomas closely.

He shuffles on his feet, as though apprehensive that we could jump him at any moment.

"With the stitches removed, you'll need to clean and bandage the wound at least twice a day. Use the antiseptic cream, and visit your doctor regularly for checkups. The cut on your head healed very quickly, so there's nothing I could add to that. My biggest concern is your leg. Although your body was healing while you were in the coma, your leg was fairly damaged and it's best to give it a little more time to heal. A few more weeks, eight at most."

He taps his pen on the clipboard. "I will forward your medical records to your doctor to make things easier for them were you to experience any pain or discomfort."

I think I spot a sheen of sweat on his forehead after he's done.

"Pain and discomfort? Why?" I prod.

His eyes dart back and forth between Haley and me, as though wondering who to give an answer to.

"Ordinarily, because of the surgeries on your abdomen and the cut on your head, you might have some prickling feeling in your stomach or headaches. You might also feel some soreness in your leg."

"Will that be a regular thing?" she asks.

"Until your wound is completely healed, I see no reason for you to keep having them. But please contact your doctor if they don't subside."

She nods and focuses back on Jamie. The room is tersely quiet, save for Jamie's gurgles and Haley's soft murmurs.

"Well…uh…I think this is goodbye. Mr. Scott, could you please come with me and fill out the paperwork?"

I wonder if he was bullied in school.

"Thanks for everything, Dr. Thomas," Haley says sincerely.

He nods. "You're welcome."

He uses that as his dismissal, tucking her chart under his arm and backing away.

"Good luck," he stammers before I follow him out the door.

Why is he so nervous?

Six minutes later, I understand why Dr. Thomas looked nervous as he led me to his office.

I read through the paperwork twice before signing.

There was a reason behind the good doctor's stutters; the hospital is not charging us. Not a penny.

The suited man accompanying Dr. Thomas reeks of a law degree, and he has the same weird pasted-on smile.

He tells me not to "give a thought" to the bill, that the hospital is "delighted" that Haley has recovered and they "dearly" wish us all the best.

He can't be more than thirty-five but he speaks like a man twice his age.

I could let them sweat it out a little before signing the papers but I'm too anxious to get the hell out of this shithole.


	16. Chapter 16

It's past noon by the time we've cleared up everything with the hospital. Since it's too late to start the trip back to Tree Hill, we decide to stay the night in New Jersey.

After our unhurried lunch at the diner, Lucas decides to take a tour of Newark. He seems fascinated with the place.

To work on her balance, Haley opts to walk over taking the car. The motel isn't too far from the diner, though.

With Jamie over my shoulder, I walk slowly beside her as we head back to the motel.

She's a little wobbly on the crutches and there are moments I'm afraid she may keel over. She's also a klutz, who has at one time fallen face flat in the middle of the street. I kid you not.

When we get to the room, an exhausted-looking Haley dumps the crutches on the floor and falls back on the bed, flexing her fingers.

"Christ, I feel as though my body has been run over by a train."

"That's not funny, Hales," I reproach, laying Jamie next to her.

She laughs breathily. "It's a little funny."

"Maybe in another year I can laugh," I tell her as I walk to the bathroom to get a wet towel.

It's just like her to forget that she was in a traumatizing accident and make jokes about it.

Laid out on the bed and staring up at the ceiling, she looks drained. She's also rubbing at her armpits.

"You alright?"

Sighing, she glances down at the crutches on the floor. "No. They will need time to get used to."

I lean over her, placing a pillow under her head. "Does it hurt a lot?"

She runs her fingers on my cheek. "Not anymore."

Kneeling next to the bed, I dab at her face with the damp cloth.

"You take such good care of me," she says quietly, her voice shaky.

"Because I love you, you nerd."

"Lucky me."

I kiss her softly before resuming wiping her face.

She would do the same for me.

* * *

The TV is on but on mute, and Jamie is taking his afternoon nap on Lucas' bed.

We've just been watching daytime talk shows and soap operas that have been filling the silence more than anything.

I want her to tell me everything, yet at the same time I don't want to hear her tell me about all the suffering she went through.

My mouth must be on a completely different mindset because I hear myself say, "I'm sorry."

She blinks and looks over at me in confusion. "For what?"

"For not being here. For not being with you when you needed me most. For the children you'll not have."

That is one of the biggest things I'm most sorry for. I have so many things to tell her I'm sorry for but before I can go on, she puts a finger to my lips.

"It's not your fault that this happened, Nathan. What if we were together and something worse had happened? Where could that have left Jamie? I am so happy to see you both. I know it's not the ideal situation but you have to admit, we've never really been a normal couple."

I grin weakly at this. We got married when we were sixteen; that is nowhere close to normal.

She snuggles her face into my neck before raising her head. "It would have been wonderful to have more children but it's okay that we only have Jamie. It's okay."

Her smile widens, her eyes wet. "I want to say thank you for taking care of him these last two months. I'm so proud of you, honey, and even after what your father put you through, you are a wonderful father. A good man."

How is it that she's the one comforting me when she was the one in a coma states away from home?

"You don't know how much I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispers, nuzzling my neck with her nose.

Holding her left hand over my chest, I intertwine our fingers. Feeling the nakedness of her fingers, I sit up a little.

"I have something for you."

I pull at the chain around my neck, revealing her wedding ring.

She gasps, holding a hand over her mouth. "How?"

"Doesn't matter."

I slide the ring slowly on her finger, kissing it once I've placed it. She's lost weight and the ring looks loose.

"Always and forever, Haley James."

Draping a hand on the back of my neck, she pulls me down for a kiss.

"Always and forever."

The kiss slowly escalates to an urgency, her lips parting slightly, my tongue slipping in to meet hers.

Warm.

Silky.

Her tongue flicks lightly over my lower lip, her teeth grazing it in a gentle nibble. I swear I could spend hours kissing her.

"Did you lock the door?" she sighs as she runs her fingers under my shirt.

"Mm," I say absently.

"Mm?" she giggles, her lips pursing to blow softly in my ear.

Groaning, I roll gently on top of her, my fingers reaching for the hem of her t-shirt.

She laughs as I try to get it through her neck with shaking fingers.

"What's the hurry, honey?" she chuckles.

I bury my head in the crook of her neck, drawing closer to her. She groans softly, her fingers clenching on my skin.

"Oh. O-okay. I see what you—"

I cut her off with a kiss and as it lengthens, I become lost in its dizzying sensation.

"No…more…talking," I whisper breathlessly against her mouth when we pull apart.

Her lips are fuller, swollen, her eyes wide and a darker chocolate, her breathing quick and harsh.

"No more," she says huskily, her lips then crashing down on mine.

Later, when we're both breathing more regularly, Haley rests her cheek on my bare shoulder, her arm over my waist.

I look over her head to see that Jamie is still asleep.

"I can't believe we just had sex with Jamie in the room," I tell her.

Talk about a _really_ fucked up parenting move.

"It's not like it's the first time," she chuckles. "And we were under the covers."

Hales and I have a little problem with…self-control. We have had sex in the oddest of places, once almost in the boys' locker room.

Long story short, we thought we were the only ones left until we heard Whitey coughing his lungs out as he walked out of his office. I pushed her into my locker and dove into the laundry hamper, both of us half naked as we waited for him to leave. I don't know what he was doing but it took him what felt like fifty fucking years to finally leave. When I got to Haley, she was falling asleep, folded up like a boneless human in the tight space.

"I know, but what if he woke up? I don't want to scar him."

"He's facing the other way, Nathan. Besides, I don't think he'll remember seeing your bare ass."

I slap her ass playfully beneath the blanket.

"We should be more responsible parents and stop having sex in front of our baby. Some would call it perverted and disgusting."

Haley is still laughing. "Well, just make sure that the next time we visit your uncle in Vermont, there's an extra bedroom for Jamie to sleep in. You know how cold I get up there. I need…heat," she giggles.

"He survives on the bare essentials, Hales. You've seen how tiny the room we sleep in is. But I like him, anyway. You can't tell that he's related to Grandpa Royal."

"Yeah. Just like your dad and Keith."

Siblings in my family are polar opposites, like an angel-versus-devil kind of complex. Our pride and bigheadedness has something to do with our inability to call a truce and get along. It's like a fucking curse.

We are quiet for some time until I hear Haley begin to speak softly.

"You know how sometimes I get motion sickness? Like that day on your dad's boat?"

I don't know where this is going, but I say, "Yeah?"

"It hit me on the train. I thought the tablets I had taken would settle my stomach but they didn't."

A wave of anxiety rolls through me. This is what I've been both wanting and dreading hearing.

The only time I ever took Haley sailing, she was nauseous the entire hour we were out in the water. I'd planned for us to be there all day but at seeing how sick she got, we cut it short.

"I went to the bathroom to freshen up. I don't know why I removed my ring but I did. I placed it on the counter and after washing my face, I forgot about it. I noticed that I didn't have it when I went back to my carriage so I ran back to the bathroom but I couldn't find it. I wasn't gone for more than two minutes but my ring had disappeared."

She sighs, her heated breath flowing over my skin. "I'm so sorry."

"What for?"

"For not keeping it with me," she says, her head still lowered. "I never take it off. I shouldn't have removed it and then you wouldn't have had to think that I had died and you wouldn't have had to bury a stranger thinking it was me and you wouldn't have had to think about raising our son alone—"

She breaks off, sniffling against my shoulder.

"Hey, look at me."

I lift her chin with the tip of my finger. Her face is stained with tears, and the sight of it makes me sad to my soul.

"If you hadn't forgotten it, you wouldn't have gone back to the bathroom and you probably wouldn't have survived. Those carriages were wrecked and you being in the bathroom at that time saved your life. You wouldn't be here with me, Jamie wouldn't have his mom back, and Luke wouldn't have his best friend. Okay?"

She nods and I wipe away her tears with my thumbs. She closes her eyes at the contact and I can feel myself breathless, waiting for her to speak.

"I – I was still in the bathroom when I felt the train jerk. I fell to the floor. Then there was this loud screeching and grinding of metal and then the train was jerking violently. I was so fucking scared, Nathan. I didn't know what to do. Run back to my carriage or stay in the bathroom? I just crawled under the sink and held onto the curly pipe below it. I don't know how I fit under there but I did."

Her body trembles with the long, shaky breath of air, a trembling so frightening that I shake, too.

"I think…I think the train flew because we hit solid ground after a moment. It sounded like a bomb. I hit my head hard on the wall…"

She touches her temple, pressing her fingers gently on her skin as if gathering a memory together.

"The windows broke and glass was flying everywhere, and then I felt it cutting into my face. Like a thousand jabs. I shut my eyes in case the glass flew into them, then my body was being jerked around, side-to-side. I was shaking so badly but I held onto that pipe with all my strength, thinking about you and Jamie and not wanting to die. I could hear screaming…the screaming…oh my God…"

Haley's crying and shaking desperately and the only comfort I can give her is to let her know I'm here.

"It's alright, Hales. You're safe now and I'm here, okay? You don't have to say any more…"

Tenderly, I rub my hand along her shoulder, wanting to roar out in pain on her behalf.

There's a pain in my chest when I think about the agony she has been through.

"I want to…please…" she sobs.

I kiss her forehead as she continues.

"The screaming was the worst. I swear I could also hear them when I was in the coma. The train didn't seem to stop rolling, and then it was flying again. When it landed, I felt this hot pain in my stomach before I hit my head again. I can't remember what happened after that…"

It's a miracle she survived. It's a miracle they found her.

"Oh my God…I'm so sorry, baby…I'm so sorry…"

I just hold her and comfort her as she cries, my own tears blurring my vision.

"I-I can't believe I put you all through this. I'm so sorry, Nathan. I'm so sorry…"

Her arms are around my neck and she seems to be clinging onto me for dear life.

"None of this is your fault. None of it. I don't want you blaming yourself ever again."

She nods, slowly expelling a ragged breath.

Flashes of horror and fear spear through me as I think about everything she just said. I never want to let her go.

"I'm going to follow you to the ends of the earth, Haley Scott. Just watch me. I'm not letting you go this easily again."

I'm not.

I can't.

Why would I?

* * *

When I wake up, darkness is taking over outside.

Haley is still asleep, and from the stillness of her body, she's under one of her deep-sleep spells that only she can get herself out of.

I get off the bed without waking her, picking up Jamie from Luke's bed and laying him next to her. Soon, he'll be awake, hungry, and we're out of baby food.

I dress quickly and tiptoe out of the room, closing the door silently behind me. Mother and son freak out easily when they're startled, especially Jamie when it comes to banging doors.

Once, I left the nursery door partially open and when the wind blew, it banged shut so loud that Jamie woke up immediately screaming and wailing. It took him fifteen minutes to calm down. I apologized over and over, walking up and down around the house, feeling his little heart beating erratically over my shoulder.

He was so scared. I felt so guilty that it has become a habit to shut doors quietly, even when I don't need to.

I buy oatmeal and fruit for Jamie, and sandwiches and drinks for us. When I get back, they're both awake.

She's bouncing Jamie on her lap, and he looks thrilled to have her undivided attention.

"Sleep well?"

She throws me a smile and a quick glance. "Best nap ever."

"Weren't you the one in a coma?"

Jamie pats her cheeks and giggles.

"That was no nap," she laughs. "It was…oblivion or something."

She turns her face to him and crinkles her nose. "What's weird is that I could hear the doctors and nurses talking."

"What were they saying?"

"I remember 'poor girl' a lot."

"I just don't understand why they didn't report you as a missing person."

She shrugs. "Bureaucracy, I suppose."

Shaking my head, I pull out Jamie's bag from under the bed. "It was wrong on their part."

"Nathan?"

"Hm?"

"Look at me."

"Yeah?"

"You were fantastic," she teases, biting her lower lip.

"That magical, huh?" I laugh.

Her cheeks colour. "Isn't it always?"

It's so cute that she blushes so much when we're talking about sex but when it comes to the real thing, she's not shy about telling me what she wants.

"Is there a compliment for me somewhere in there?"

She rolls her eyes. I laugh again, walking to the phone to dial the front desk to ask if there's a way that we can heat up Jamie's oatmeal.

"Can I borrow your cell phone? Luke said that Peyton is waiting for my call."

For nearly the next hour, Haley talks to my mom, Peyton, Brooke, and Karen. And for each of them, it's about ten minutes per call. I've fed and bathed Jamie while she's still been on the phone.

I'm sometimes in awe at how such a small person can have such animated gestures. I'll have to check her wound later in case it re-opened during all the arm flailing.

We're sitting on the bed digging into the sandwiches when Luke walks in with a wide grin on his face.

"What's got you so happy?" I ask.

He flops down on the bouncy bed, his grin ear-splitting. "I'm moving here."

As I pass him a sandwich, I look over at Haley and we share a curious look.

"You are?" she says mid-bite.

"I like this place. There's history, there's baseball and it's not as big or scary as New York. It just looks like a great place to live in. I even visited Rutgers and went in for a creative writing class."

"Are you in love?" she teases once she swallows.

"I thought USC was it but after today, I'm rethinking this whole college thing."

Haley looks horrified. "Are you serious?"

"Very serious. I even applied."

"What? Why? But you like basketball, not baseball."

When it comes to her friends, Haley can whine and pout to get her way into heaven.

He nods. "I know basketball has been my ideal sport but I like baseball too, Hales. Besides, with my HCM, I can't play basketball as much as I'd like to. I'd rather watch baseball than sit somberly on the bleachers pining for a position on the team during a basketball game."

"Does that mean you'll not attend any of my pro ball games, Luke?" I ask playfully.

Haley flashes her brown eyes at me. "Don't encourage him."

"What?"

"Do you want him this far away from us?"

She's on the brink of overreacting.

"Hales, you'll have me with you when we go to college. Wherever we go for college. And Jamie, too."

"What are you doing to me?"

Her eyes are glistening with tears. I'm now a little stunned at her reaction. I put my sandwich down and pick up Jamie, standing him on the bed.

"They have crab houses!" Luke blurts out.

She lifts her head and turns to look at him slowly. That move is usually reserved for when she thinks I think she's batshit crazy.

"Crab houses? You're moving here because they have crabs? I'll buy you crabs, Luke! How many do you want!?"

If I'm not mistaken, her voice is quivering.

"Baby, why are you reacting like this?"

She's crying openly now.

"My best friend is abandoning me! And you, _my husband_, is taking his side! How do you expect me to react!?"

"Lucas has to live his own life. And it's not too far from Tree Hill for visits," I say calmly.

Jamie has a hold on my mouth and I close my lips over his fingers.

"Not too far? It's more than five hundred miles, Nathan! Five hundred! That's like a day driving here and a day driving back! And I get what? Two hours in between to see him?" she hiccups.

"How do you know it's five hundred?"

I didn't know that until we had to drive over here.

"I paid attention in geography, unlike some people!"

She's weeping openly, and the contents of her sandwich are dripping onto her paper plate one by one.

I grab the sandwich from her hand before she decides to smear it on my face. This girl is not to be messed with when emotional. I've learned the hard way; I lived it for nine fucking months.

Some days, I was convinced that Haley had anger issues and needed to attend anger management classes. But then my mom told me that irritation and quickness to anger was normal for pregnant women. There was one time when we were having dinner that she told me not to chew. I wanted to laugh; was I supposed to suck chicken like you do to chocolate? I waited for her to finish and leave before I could eat. If I had dared walked out to go suck on my chicken elsewhere, she would have burst out into tears, claiming I couldn't stand looking at her 'fat, stupid, ugly face'.

"Don't even get me started on how you drive like an old man with vision problems sometimes," she says with a sharp glare directed at me.

"I do not," I protest.

She sits up straighter, blinking away her tears. "Yes, you do. Remember when I was pregnant and we went to Charlotte for the weekend? It took us hours to get there. The road was empty, Nathan, and it took us four hours to get to a place that wouldn't take us more than one. Do you know how many cars passed by us on that highway before we got to Charlotte? Eleven. Only. And one of those overtaking us was a toothless grandma. I know that because she smiled at me."

I remember that day.

Sitting Jamie on my lap, I straighten to look at her face, pink from crying.

"In case you missed it, Hales, I was thinking of you and our son. My job as your husband is to protect you."

She reaches for Jamie, holding him over her shoulder, tear stains on her face, her nose and lips cherry-red and puffy.

"And I love you for that. But you can't come with me when visiting Luke. It'll just be me and Jamie."

"That's harsh."

"You bet your sweet, tight, athletic ass it's harsh."

"Why you—"

"Don't you—"

"I ought to—"

"Guys!"

"What!"

"Good sandwich," Lucas mumbles as he bites into it.

* * *

The only light in the room is coming from the muted TV. There's no cable so I'm limited to six channels of infomercials and disaster news; late night TV is depressing and snooze-worthy.

I'm not all that interested in what's on but I'm just not sleepy. How can I sleep when my bedmate is so tense that I can virtually hear her nerves tick as they contract and expand?

Both Jamie and Lucas are sound asleep, and Haley has her arms folded across her chest, staring at the ceiling. She's really good at sulking.

"Will you just pick one?" she asks, sounding irritated.

I look at her from the corner of my eye and rapidly flip through the channels. She wants irritation? I'll give her irritation on a silver platter.

"Nathan…"

My thumb presses down on the button, browsing channel to channel, flashing the room in light and darkness alternatively.

"Stop that," she whispers angrily as she sits up and snatches the remote from my hand.

"Give it back."

"Not until you admit that this whole idea of Luke moving to Newark is preposterous."

Big words are used when she's annoyed. I consulted the dictionary a lot when she was pregnant. I'm not kidding; I was once described as being "atavistic" for forgetting to shut a desk drawer.

"I won't. He can go to university in Alaska for all I care. Or live a nomadic lifestyle. Or join a nudist colony."

She narrows her eyes. "He's your brother. Why would you want him to die of hypothermia or frost bite?"

"I'm sure they have heaters in Alaska, Haley."

"Don't patronize me."

"I'm not. I'm just telling it as it is. You need to let him go, Hales. He's not a child. You have a child, remember?"

I point to Jamie.

"You could afford me the decency of siding with me. Have you seen how damaged I am physically and emotionally?"

She's also good at laying a guilt trip on someone.

"You don't get to play that card. It may have worked last time when you tripped on the street but it won't this time. Your own shoelaces, Haley."

"You knew I was a klutz when you married me," she hisses.

"I did. But I don't have to agree with everything you say."

"Is that right? Who was it that suggested you apply for early acceptance? Me. Who was it that suggested a trip to Duke on open day? An open day you knew nothing about, by the way. Me. Who was it that suggested you attend a couple of college games to see the high standard of college ball? Me. Who was it that suggested we invest in life insurance for Jamie when we got that cheque from your great uncle? Me. And what have the results been? I bet you got accepted to Duke, didn't you?"

I haven't gotten the chance to tell her about Duke.

"You did. And thanks for being kind enough to not tell me. You met Coach K and your game improved after seeing the intensity of college basketball. And if, God forbid, something awful was to happen to us, at least we know Jamie won't have to want for anything for a while."

"I've come up with some great ideas for us too, you know."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

She crosses her arms over her chest, raising her eyebrow as if to challenge me. "Indulge me."

"Is it a competition?"

She smirks. "You tell me. You're the one turning it into one."

"I'm not. I'm just saying that we both contribute to this marriage. The point is, even though we said our vows, it doesn't mean I have to agree with everything you say. I disagree with you sometimes but it doesn't mean I love you any less. You know that's what makes us great together."

She stares at me for a minute before bursting into tears.

"I know we both contribute to this marriage, Nathan. I didn't mean to make you feel bad about it. I know that Lucas is not my baby…but…but he's my best friend. We've been friends forever and I just found him again. And now he's going to leave! Is he abandoning me? Have I become too much as a friend? Is he tired of me? Is that what this is? Have we been friends so long that he wants to move on?"

"Hales…"

I pull her close and wrap my arms around her. Lucas owes me big time.

"He's not abandoning you. If he were, he'd be applying for the NASA space program to get away from all the Tree Hill drama. He'd have left a long time ago from your dramatics."

She pushes against me but I hear her chuckle.

"And college is months away, Hales. Luke is always going to be your best friend. Your second best friend after me that is, right?"

She laughs against my chest.

"But seriously, he likes it here. You're his friend. Be happy for him. There are holidays and summers and email and messenger and if you want to go old school, snail mail. As long as he's breathing in this world, it will be fine."

She lifts her wet face.

"Will you kick his butt if he shows signs of abandoning us?"

"In a heartbeat. I'll make sure I read all the psychology books just so I can spot the signs."

I hold her as she calms down.

"You know, if you and Luke weren't such platonic friends, I'd feel threatened by this entire reaction. What will you do when we're taking Jamie to preschool?"

Cry me a river isn't just a fucking saying.


	17. Chapter 17

"Make me feel better, will you?"

"No. It's disgusting."

"You realize I was in the car with you when you threw up on my dad's lap? And when you puked your guts out all over the boat?"

She slaps my chest lightly. Lying back on the bed, with my legs over each side of her knees, she looks quite tiny.

"Come on. Someone has to change the dressing on your wound. We didn't get to last night. And I know I will not let Lucas touch any part of you. In sickness and in health, remember?"

"That's not fair. What if it's oozing pus and blood and there's a fly lodged in there?"

"First of all, disgusting."

She laughs.

"Secondly, I don't think a fly would want to chill in there with all the cheerful energy that leaks off of you."

"Gross. Fine then. Just don't puke on me when you're horrified."

"I want to make sure that the wound has not reopened. You have a special way of communicating with people over the phone, you know."

I pull up her shirt to remove the dressing. The wound is sideways to her navel, shaped like a U. I stare at the fading bruises around her ribcage for a moment, running my fingers lightly over them. I saw them yesterday but seeing them again doesn't lessen the pain I feel on her behalf.

"What are you talking about?"

Clearing my throat, I lift my eyes to look at her.

"When you're on the phone, you talk really fast and you tend to throw your arms around a lot."

The wound is still intact and there's only a slight smear of blood along it.

"I do?"

"You do. Ask anyone."

"Don't tempt me. Where's Lucas anyway?" she asks as she looks around the room.

"Took Jamie for a walk to Rutgers. And our baby isn't even walking."

"I'm going to miss him," she says sadly.

"I know, but at least he's not going to Alaska."

She grins. "Or joining a nudist colony."

I laugh. "Or that."

"What are the chances he's using Jamie to score himself some phone numbers?"

"He knows you'd kill him for doing that to Peyton. And she'd kill him all over again when she finds out. Besides, that's Skills' specialty."

Her mouth opens slightly, mockingly. "To use our baby to hook up with women? You don't say."

I chuckle. "If I recall correctly, weren't you the one retelling the story?"

Soaking the cotton ball in antiseptic, I dab it around the wound.

"You should've been there," she laughs. "He'd already convinced her that Jamie was an orphan he was adopting! The look on his face when I came back and reached for Ja— Fuck!"

"Sorry. Just a few more."

"That shit hurts."

She tenses, hissing, gritting her teeth. I have been there; it must feel like lightning bolts going through her body.

I apply the prescribed antiseptic cream, change her dressing and dispose of the cotton and used dressing.

"All set."

"Thanks. When are we leaving?"

I smile down at her. "Anxious?"

"You have no idea."

"Luke won't be long. He said the coffee in the school cafeteria is pretty good."

"Oh, God. I miss coffee," she groans while closing her eyes. She's almost salivating.

"You'll have to keep that craving at bay until you finish your prescription. Have you taken your pills this morning?"

"Yes, doctor."

I reach to tickle her under her chin, making her shriek. One of her very sensitive spots.

"Nathan!" she laughs.

"Don't you _dare _sass me, Haley Scott," I imitate in a girly voice, making her laugh louder.

"What's this?" Lucas asks as he walks in.

"Your friend is being a little cute," I tell him as I reach for her chin again.

Jamie, at hearing his mom laughing, fusses in Luke's arms.

"I got coffee. Green tea for the patient," he says as he passes Jamie to Haley.

"You brought me green tea, Jame?" Haley says between giggles she's sharing with Jamie.

I move in and out of the bathroom arranging our things, making sure that we haven't left anything behind.

"How's the campus this morning?" I ask Luke.

He's beaming. I only see him look like that about Peyton or books. This is serious.

"Just as gorgeous as yesterday."

"Gorgeous? Sure we're not talking about a girl?"

"What has Peyton got to do with this?" he throws back.

I look over at Haley, hinting to her to talk to Luke.

She scrunches up her nose. I nod. She huffs slightly, chewing on her lower lip.

"Lucas, I'm sorry about overreacting yesterday."

"It's okay. I'm already used to your theatrics."

"Hey! but seriously, you deserve to be happy and if New Jersey will make you happy, then I'll be happy too. Eventually, I'll find my way to happiness for you."

He turns to me with a raised brow. "Took you a while to get her to see sense, Nate."

"Luke, I am my own person. I can make myself see sense."

"Sometimes you just need a little nudge, babe. Your emotions get a bit tangled up when it comes to things not going your way."

"Nathan, you're emasculating me in front of your brother."

"Impossible. He saw you drown in a ball pit at Chuck E. Cheese. Was she tripping, Luke?"

She smirks. "Like on acid?"

"I'm just glad that you didn't have sex in front of me last night," Lucas says before he sips from his cup.

"Jesus, Luke!" Haley screeches, her hands over Jamie's ears.

* * *

"You think so, too?" Haley asks from the backseat.

She wanted to sit next to Jamie on the drive back home.

Luke groans. "Yes. I remember you almost smacked my nose once while you were talking to Nate. It's like you were fighting with his phantom yet he was on the other end of the line."

She chuckles. "I honestly had no idea I flail my arms around when I'm on the phone. One more question, Luke."

"Yeah?"

"What are the chances that Brooke is planning a party right this minute?"

He darts a look at me.

"Uh…I don't know what you're talking about."

She leans over to place her hand on his shoulder. "Do you want me to tell Nathan about the very first camping trip you and I took together? What happened that night?"

I look at him in the passenger seat and then at her in the rear view mirror.

Haley went camping? And what happened during this trip?

"What are you talking about? What happened?"

"Nothing," Lucas says a little too quickly.

"Yes! Yes! Brooke has a party planned for you!" he says in defeat.

You'd think someone was holding a gun to his head.

"Did you kiss on this trip? I'm going to fucking hurt you, Lucas."

"Gross!" they both cry out.

"Gross? Didn't you two make out after the boy toy auction?"

"I can't believe that you still bring that up," Luke says. "You make it sound so vulgar. It was just a peck."

"With my then-girlfriend and now wife, whom you equate to being like a sister to you. What happened on this camping trip?"

Haley is grinning confidently and victoriously, her attention taken by my cell phone again.

"Honey, as much as I love you, I'll take this to my grave."

She looks up momentarily. "Unless Lucas forces me to use it against him."

"You promised, Hales! And we were only nine!"

"Fine, fine," she pats him on the arm, like a puppy she's appeasing. "There are some things I wouldn't want you to tell about me, anyway."

"Are you keeping secrets from me?" I ask her.

"Just childhood memories that need to stay in the friendship vault. Isn't that right, Luke?"

"Right."

"I'll find out, you know. If I don't do that thing I know you really really like me to—"

"Save it for the bedroom, Nate," Lucas groans.

I glance back at Haley and give her a wink. "I will, Luke. I will."

He just turns up the music on the radio.

The drive back to Tree Hill has been quite enjoyable, I must say. It's so different from the trip to New Jersey.

I take over from Luke when we cross into Virginia. The radio is tuned to a talk show about scholarships from a local college, and it seems to have a calming effect on everyone. They all nap for an hour while I drive, and I wake them when I get to a rest stop.

"You want to swap seats and stretch out your leg?" I ask Haley before I drive out.

Eyes glued to the screen of my cell phone, she's leaning back on the door, her injured leg stretched out diagonally.

"No. It's not too bad back here. Your dad's car is really roomy. I never noticed that before."

I smirk, backing up from the space. "Probably because you were too busy throwing up on his lap."

"Ha, ha."

"It won't be his anymore, anyway. Mom wants to sell it."

She gasps softly and sits up a little. "Good for her. Is she dating anyone, by the way?"

If I had a drink in my mouth, it would have come out through my nose.

"A lot can happen in two months, you know," she says casually.

"I don't want to think about my mom dating, Hales."

"Why not? Don't you want her to be happy?"

"What if she brings a guy younger than you? Would you call him stepdad?" Lucas twangs while stifling laughter, Haley joining in.

I shudder. "Not funny, man."

"All those trips to Charlotte can't be just because of your uncle Cooper."

"Haley, please."

"What? I'm just saying. Your mom is attractive and she's not exactly looking into nursing homes so her being on the market shouldn't shock you so much."

I just keep my mouth shut and stare straight ahead.

"If I were a guy, I definitely would tap that in a—"

"Could we please talk about something else?"

She's outrageously outspoken sometimes, particularly about something that she knows makes me uncomfortable.

"Fine. But don't come crying to me in shock when you find her flashing her boobs at a webcam," she finishes quickly.

Did I tell you that my wife knows how to push my buttons?

* * *

We get to Tree Hill close to ten.

When we pull up at the house, Luke orders us to act surprised.

"After spending two days with you guys," he says when Haley and I mock-practice our surprised looks, "I understand why Deb leaves for Charlotte so much. Her boyfriend must be really tired of listening to her complain about you two."

His intention to slam the door backfires because this is a sleek, modern truck, not my crappy bucket.

He knocks sharply on the window. "Are you two idiots coming?"

I step out to open the back seat. "These two idiots are parents to your only nephew."

"I hope he's smarter than you two."

"Say, 'thank you for the blessing, Uncle Lucas'," she mutters to Jamie before giving him to me.

Lucas helps Haley out of the car, waiting for her to balance on the crutches.

"Okay, kids, remember to act surprised."

"Sure, sure."

He squints at me and turns away, mumbling about brothers and in-laws.

Haley's steadier on the crutches as we walk slowly towards the front door. When Luke opens the door, I loudly whisper "surprise!" behind him. He flips me off over his shoulder and we are left laughing uncontrollably.

"You okay?" I ask her when we get to the stoop.

She's panting some, and her face is flushed.

"These crutches will take some serious getting used to."

She tilts a little, almost losing balance. I reach for her before she falls face down on the cemented ground.

"Jeez, what was that?"

"Gravity?" she huffs, leaning on the wall.

The door is flung open, Brooke standing before us with a peeved look on her face. She reaches for Jamie and then stares at us with a stern expression.

"You're late for your own party."

Haley and I share a clueless look.

"Party? What party?"

Still glaring at us, she says, "I know you know. Blabbermouth Lucas told me."

She turns to Jamie, smiling widely, holding him close to her.

The girl has a serious mood-changing knob that's on overdrive.

"Hi, Jamie! Have you missed your godmother? I have missed you so much!"

Music is playing in the house when we walk in, Brooke disappearing before we get to the living room.

Several mumbles of 'surprise' greet us when we walk into the already-partying crowd of people.

"Haley!" my mom yells from across the room.

Haley lights up when she sees my mom. We've come a really long way from her being opposed to our marriage.

"Deb, hi! How are you?"

"Better! How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," she says tearfully as they hug.

"Come sit."

Haley shuffles to the couch and falls back on the cushions with a grateful sigh.

"You want something to drink? Eat?" my mom asks, looking at her concernedly.

"Just a glass of water, thanks."

She dashes off towards the kitchen.

"Did you put a spell on her?" I ask Haley, picking up the crutches.

She chuckles, dabbing at her eyes. "Shouldn't you be doing cartwheels?"

As much as I appreciate my mother's acceptance of my marriage to Haley, I still find it weird that she does.

I'm displaced from the couch when Peyton and Brooke come over, crying and screaming things incoherently. It's a joyful mess.

Everyone is here; Karen, Whitey, the River Court Guys. Everyone Haley has known since childhood…except her family.

It annoys the shit out of me; it's like Haley was a poor little stray child occupying space in family pictures. Sometimes I think I was delusional when I wanted us to have a big family, if that's the kind of craziness I was setting myself up for.

The party, thankfully, does not involve any alcohol, so there are no rowdy teenagers to frighten Jamie from sleep as I take him up to bed. I swear to God I would kick them out even if they came to see Haley with bells on.

People stop by the couch to greet Haley throughout the party, even Rachel.

They have a mutual unconcealed dislike for each other; Haley because Rachel comes on to me 'without the decent courtesy of stalking you from afar', and Rachel because I don't want anything to do with her.

"Haley."

"Rachel."

"You're back."

"Clearly."

"For good?"

"Looks that way."

"Your husband was great company when you weren't here."

"Was he?"

"Your son called me Mom."

"Did he?"

"You can keep them both, anyway."

"Can I?"

"Too much Scott drama and I can't deal."

"Good to know."

"Good talk."

"Sure was."

She tosses her copper hair over her shoulder and winks at me before walking to her cheerleader friends.

Two years ago, I would have been thrilled at the attention. Now, I feel nothing and it takes a lot not to scowl or growl.

Sometimes I can't help it; the cheerleaders know that I don't play those games anymore. All of them but Rachel Gatina.

"How long do you think I'd be incarcerated for after beating her up?" Haley grumbles.

"I think you'd make it in time for Jamie's high school graduation."

It makes her laugh and I laugh along with her.

The sound is head-turning and infectious, like music to my ears. I want to always make her happy, always make her laugh.

"Are you tired?" I ask her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

She sighs softly, leaning back on the couch. "I can wait until everyone's gone."

"You don't have to. It's your party. You can chase them away with a bullhorn if you wanted."

She gives a short laugh.

"I can stay up a little longer but if I do end up drooling on the couch…"

She turns her head to look at me, taking my hand. "Promise to close my mouth in case I choke on a fly?"

Leaning over, I kiss her lightly. "I promise."

* * *

After the party has died down, we sit around the living room, drinking coffee, tea for Haley, talking late into the night.

Haley sometimes underestimates how much she means to her friends. She seems genuinely surprised when they tell her how they felt after her "death".

The solemn mood is broken when Peyton jumps from the couch.

"Okay, okay! Enough of the gloominess!"

Look who's talking, the Queen of Gloomy.

She turns to Haley, lifting her cup. "Hales, we're so happy you're back because frankly, we were getting a little tired of Mopey Nathan."

Twirling the baby monitor in my hand, I snort a little too loudly. Peyton scowls, narrowing her eyes at me.

"As I was saying, we're really glad that you're back. So here's a toast to your return, to us your friends and family, and to the future. May we never have to bury you again until you're old and withered. Cheers."

We just blink up at her.

"You should have stopped at the future," Brooke says softly.

Even after everyone is gone, Haley is still awake, not hinting at tiredness with a yawn or droopy eyes.

I'm not sleepy, either, so I decide to clean up as she watches me from the couch, the TV playing quietly.

"Was Jamie much trouble tonight?" she asks.

"No. I think he was more exhausted about the whole trip than the discomfort from the teething. He'll probably wake up in the middle of the night, though."

She sighs. "I missed those late night feedings."

"You're back now," I tell her.

She smiles distractedly in return, looking around the living room.

"Hey, I haven't seen your mom in a while."

"She left."

"Where'd she go?"

I shrug. "No idea."

She gives me a knowing look.

"Is this about the boyfriend again?"

It feels like bile in my mouth when I say it out loud. Can you blame me for being uncomfortable with my middle-aged mother dating?

"I didn't say anything! But since you mentioned it, you shouldn't be in denial about your mother having a love life."

"I'm not in denial. It just doesn't sound right. Did your parents call?" I throw back her, dragging out wadded napkins from underneath the table.

"They did, but we didn't talk for long. They're in California visiting Viv, but they'll pass by in a few weeks."

She looks straight at the TV, disappointment etched on her face. It makes me mad that they couldn't spare a day or two to come see the daughter they supposedly buried.

I forcefully toss cups into a garbage bag. "I honestly don't know how you deal, Hales. They're your parents, for God's sake. You were dead. The least they could do is show up at your resurrection party."

She huffs a soft laugh.

"What's funny?"

"Resurrection party. Sweet."

* * *

"You okay?" I ask her.

"I'm sorry you have to do this," she says apologetically, sitting at the edge of it as I help her undress.

"Will you stop it? I don't mind at all."

She had surgery on her foot and she'll need help getting around until she's able to maintain complete balance. The staircase, especially, will take some time.

"I don't want you to hate me for having to take care of me," she sniffs.

"Stop it, you goof. I like taking care of you. In fact, I _love_ taking care of you," I say with a comforting smile.

She laughs chokingly, swiping the back of her hand over her cheeks. She would rather take care of people than have them take care of her.

"You're here with me, and that's all that matters. Or would you rather I died of a broken heart?"

"Don't say that."

I kneel on the floor in front of her, our eyes leveled.

"It's the truth."

She turns her teary face away from me as I reach for her skirt, and she's still tense when I help her into a night slip.

Long after, we lay in the dark, not speaking. The tension is palpable.

"I felt like my heart was being ripped into shreds every minute, knowing that you were dead," I start quietly.

"Sometimes it felt like I was drowning in my grief and I couldn't breathe properly. I couldn't play basketball, I didn't want to spend time with our friends, I didn't want to go to school. I didn't want to do anything."

I exhale heavily. "I couldn't sleep in this room because it reminded me too much of you. Your clothes, your perfume…you were everywhere. I couldn't bear being in here without you. Jamie was my only tie to living. I swear to God that I don't know what I would have done if he wasn't here."

I feel her fingers interlacing with mine, her thumb rubbing along the back of my hand.

"What, baby? What would you have done?"

I turn to look at her. I swallow hard at the sadness and tears in her eyes.

"I can't do it alone if you're dead, Haley. I can't. I would want it to be over."

She wanted the truth.

She throws herself at me, hugging me tight.

"No. No. You can't keep doing this. You can't. Even if we didn't have Jamie, people need you. If something happened to me, I'd want you to keep on living, Nathan. Please…"

I didn't know how to live without her.

My devotion to her and my love for her are overpowering; I love her more than I love my own life.

"It's not living if I have to live without you," I whisper in her hair.


	18. Chapter 18

"You're being too overprotective, Nate," Peyton tells me over lunch.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Hales. You've been hovering over her everywhere."

I divert my gaze from looking around the quadrangle for Haley to her.

"She was dead, Peyton. How quickly can anyone get over something like that?"

My face must look grim because she's quiet as she polishes her apple on her sleeve.

"Dude, chill. She wanted to come back to school but it doesn't mean you have to go all stalker on her."

"Who's a stalker?" Lucas asks, sitting beside Peyton and throwing his arm around her.

"Nate."

She bites loudly into the apple, leaving some juice trickling down her chin. Luke licks it off. Disgusting.

It must reflect on my face because he looks at me and laughs.

"That's how I feel when you do that with Haley in front of me."

"I have never licked apple juice off Haley's chin, Luke."

Not in front of him, anyway.

"No. But you have licked peanut butter off her lip in front of me. And you're always making out with her when I'm around."

"She's my wife. Of course I'm going to make out with her. It's been two years, Luke. Get used it.."

He tosses a fry at me. "So who are you stalking?"

"Nate is stalking someone? Who!"

She has a tendency of showing up in places like an unexpected gust of wind.

"I'm not stalking anyone, Brooke. Peyton's just overreacting."

"Overreacting? Me? Look in the mirror, dude."

"I'm being a concerned husband. That is not overreacting."

"You followed her into the girls' bathroom."

"I didn't follow her to the bathroom. She went in alone and I waited. She's a klutz who could have tripped and broken something, and no one could have heard her."

"It was cute last week, but now? Now it's just too much."

"What are you guys talking about!?" Brooke yells.

"Nathan following Haley around. He's with her everywhere. I'm surprised he's still here with us without her."

"But isn't that what couples do? Be together?" Brooke asks.

"Exactly," I smile smugly.

"Nathan is scared something might happen to her."

Lucas says this so softly that if I weren't paying attention, I'd have missed it. I shift uncomfortably on the bench and pick at my sandwich.

"Nothing will happen to her, Nate. She came back to us. She came back to you."

"We don't know that nothing will happen," I snap.

Anything could happen and if there are things I can control to prevent bad things from happening to her, or Jamie, I'll control them.

Brooke squeezes my arm gently.

"I'm…I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I just want her to be safe, you know?"

They nod solemnly, Peyton going back to biting into her apple like it's made of nails.

It's quite distracting. How had I missed that about her eating habits?

* * *

We are in a back table at the Tutor Centre during free period.

Thinking about what Peyton said, it _does_ make me feel like a stalker. This whole ordeal has had my mind so out of sorts that I get crazy thoughts if Haley doesn't pick up her cell phone on the first ring.

I give up when the numbers and equations move from swimming before my eyes to dancing along to an imaginary show tune.

"Hales."

Her pencil is scratching across the paper hurriedly, her lips pressed in concentration. It's impressive that she's caught up so fast to schoolwork, her name still on the honor roll.

"Hm?"

"Do you think I'm smothering you?"

She stops writing, looking up at me in confusion. "What?"

"Am I driving you crazy?"

She blinks. "No. Why would you think that?"

"Someone mentioned that it might not exactly be healthy."

"Since when do you care about what people say when it comes to us?"

I reach for her hand, rubbing at her ring. "I know I've been a little overprotective but I can't help it. I don't want something else to happen to you."

She squeezes my hand. "I know. It's not just you who needs to be around me. _I_ need to be around _you_, Nathan. What we've been through isn't something couples our age go through. It's not going to take a few days for us to get back to normal. And even when we're at that point of normal, this will still be there in the backs of our minds. But we'll be fine. It's you and me, Nathan and Haley, always and forever. Right, babe?"

She always knows what to say.

"Always and forever."

She's leaning in to kiss me when we hear a clearing of the throat.

"Haley James?" a dark-haired guy in glasses asks.

Going into tutor mode, she turns herself fully towards him. "Haley Scott, actually. Hi. How may I help you?"

He shifts his feet while adjusting his glasses, and then clears his throat again.

"Hi. Sorry to interrupt but I, um, I need a tutor. I was told you're the best."

She is. Her tutoring calendar is always full every semester. She pulled me out of D's to C pluses. That's saying something big for me.

It's not her fault, considering I'm very unwilling to learn when it comes to schoolwork.

He hands her a slip of green paper.

"You're a transfer?" she asks as she scans through it.

"Yes. Struggling in AP Bio. Can you help?"

She bites her bottom lip, something she does when she's making calculations in her head.

Turning towards me, she says, "I only have this period free and I have tutor sessions after school. Would it be okay if I tutored him at this time? We can study together in the morning before school."

"Yeah, that's cool."

I'm not going to pull a Neanderthal act on her. With Jamie, basketball, classes, tutoring and work, we don't get to spend a lot of time alone during the week. And we're both so exhausted at night that we just pass out while talking.

She smiles widely, turning to look at her new student. "So I guess I'll see you on Wednesday…"

"Evan."

He pulls out his hand and they shake hands.

"Good to meet you, Evan. This is my husband, Nathan."

I nod at him. "Hey."

His eyes are wide behind his glasses. "Husband?"

Haley nods and turns to grin at me. "Yeah."

"But…"

I rub her back, casting him a brief glance. "What can we say?"

Haley laughs, reaching for her bag. "Wanna see our little boy?"

She's always bringing up Jamie when people find out we're married. She's that kind of mother.

Evan looks like he could go into cardiac arrest. I haven't seen this reaction in quite a while. It's actually amusing.

"You have a…son?"

She pulls out a picture of Jamie that's put away in her organizer. She took it last week when he lifted up his head, supporting himself with his hands, in what we thought was an attempt at crawling. His blue eyes are pronounced, his hair is sticking out in several directions and his little teeth are showing as he grins up at the camera. We made a beautiful baby.

"Yes. Isn't he something?" she says proudly as she thrusts it in his hand.

Evan adjusts his glasses and squints at the picture.

"Sure is," he says with uncertainty, handing it back to her.

"Wednesday, then? We can figure out the other sessions later," she tells him.

"Yeah. See you Wednesday."

When he's gone, I grin at her. "Did you have to scare him like that?"

"What?" she smiles as she puts away the picture.

"You practically forced him to look at that photo."

I rub at the tattoo on her lower back. My jersey number.

She closes her eyes. "I like to show Jamie off."

"Is our baby arm candy, Mrs. Scott?" I whisper in her ear.

She takes in a deep breath. "Not arm candy…I'm just a proud mother."

I tickle her earlobe with my lips. It's so hard for me to restrain myself, but my body has a mind of its own when it comes to interacting with Haley's.

"You're a good mom."

"You're a good dad," she whispers.

I pull her carefully towards me, sitting her on my lap.

"You okay?"

"I have the best seat in the building."

She wraps her arms around my neck and leans in to kiss me. She rubs her nose with mine when we draw apart for much-needed air.

"What about homework?"

I can feel her warm breath against my lips. "We have time."

My heart is racing. She has that effect on me.

She kisses my jaw. "How much time?"

"Enough…"

* * *

"I'll pick you up at ten."

I'm dropping Haley and Jamie off at Peyton's house. As my mom was busy, Karen had offered to babysit him for half the day. Raising a child really is a team effort.

In comparison to a month ago when I was frazzled about raising Jamie on my own, his mom can be with him while I attend basketball practice and take a shift at work.

"No need. Peyton said she'll take us home. Besides, it'll be way past Jamie's bedtime."

"Are you sure?"

Walking up the steps, she has adjusted to using the crutches and she doesn't look like she's about to topple over.

"Yeah. Just come home after work."

"What about his car seat?"

"We worked it out. She picked up the extra one from the house earlier. Why are we waiting?" Haley asks, looking curiously back and forth between me and the door.

"It's polite to wait. I don't want to go in just like that."

"Since when?"

I don't answer.

"Did you walk in on her and Luke?"

I shift the bag on my shoulder. How did she know?

"Oh, you did! Tell me everything!"

"I didn't walk in on anything," I lie.

"Was she Brooking herself? Was it Lucas who was Broo—"

"Haley, please. Language," I reprimand, adjusting Jamie on my shoulder.

She dismisses it with a wave of her hand. "Boy, please. You've heard me say worse in bed. So what happened?"

Before I can answer, Peyton flings open the door.

"Hey! Sorry! I was on the phone with my dad. You okay, Nate?"

I nod weakly. My wife just has a way of leaving me speechless.

"I haven't seen you in forever, you darling baby!"

She whisks Jamie from my arms and then grabs the bag from my shoulder.

"Say bye-bye to your daddy! Bye-bye!" she coos, waving Jamie's hand at me.

I find it weird when she takes on that look, when half the time she seems just about to growl at whoever glances at her.

"Uh, Hales, I'll see you at home. Bring them home in one piece, Sawyer," I tell her as I kiss Jamie's forehead.

He reaches for my mouth, pulling at my lips.

She rolls her eyes at me.

"I sure as shit mean it, Peyton."

"Whatever."

Turning around, she walks into the house, mumbling to Jamie.

"I see why you call her moody, Hales. One—"

Jamie starts to cry then, his loud wails resonating through the house.

"Is he okay?" Haley calls out.

"He looks fine. I don't—"

As Peyton walks back towards us, he stops, wiggling in her arms, his raised little hands directed at me. These are the moments that I swear I could bawl like a girl.

When she starts to walk away, he cries.

"I don't think he wants to stay away from his papa," Peyton says as she brings him back.

He reaches his arms for me, laying his head against my neck, his cries stopping immediately. Something profound has settled in the depths of my soul, reminding me of the greatness of love that I feel for this little boy.

"What is it, buddy? I'm leaving you hear with your mom. She's not going anywhere."

As I pass him back to Peyton, he starts to scream.

Haley laughs, hobbling into the house. "Let me just sit and then you can go."

Rubbing his back, I follow Haley to the living room. "Don't you like Aunt Peyton any more, Jame? Hm?"

"Don't give him any fucking ideas, Nate," Peyton says from behind me.

Haley is laughing as she falls back on the couch. "He's a daddy's boy. Come here, sweetness."

Reluctantly, I give him to her and he looks back at me, his mouth quivering, his eyes wet with tears. If he's capable of making that face when he's older, I'll never be able to deny him anything.

He's wiggling in her lap, hands reaching out to me, screaming at the top of his lungs. If I could strap him to my back and take him to the garage with me, I would.

"I have to go to work, Jame, but I promise I'll see you later."

He's never had this much of a reaction before to me leaving him. Sometimes he'll cry but not like this.

Haley rubs his back soothingly. "What is it, baby? Daddy has to go to work, okay? We'll have so much fun with Aunt Peyton and Aunt Brooke that you won't even miss him."

"Thanks, Hales."

"Desperate measures, honey. I think he'll be alright."

He's hiccupping and moaning now, blinking against the wetness in his eyes. The puppy-dog look has already begun.

"Be good for Mama, okay?"

After I kiss them both, I turn to Peyton. "In one fucking piece, Peyton. I can't replace them."

She's a crazy driver, always speeding as if she's late for something.

"Two pieces," she sneers. "She's not pregnant anymore, Nate. Now go. You're ruining our girl time."

Brooke barges into the house as I get to the foyer, almost breaking my nose with the door.

"Where is he!?" she shrieks, running past us.

"What are you guys doing, anyway? Your nails?"

"None of your business," Peyton scoffs, shutting the door in my face.

* * *

"You're late."

She scares me so badly that I jump about a foot in the air.

"Haley! What the shit!"

My heart is beating rapidly, right where it is at my ankles.

She's seated in the dimly lit living room in the chair right across the door, such that if I were sneaking past, I wouldn't get away with it. My dad loved to do that when I came home late.

"Fuck, you scared me. Why are you not in bed?"

She reaches to turn on the table lamp. "Considering my ride to the bedroom wasn't here, I decided to wait."

She's talking calmly. That's never a good sign.

"Where's Jamie?"

"Asleep. Your mom took him up. Where were you?"

She's watching me like a hawk. It is quite unnerving.

"I was at work."

"It's almost midnight, Nathan. Your shift ends at ten."

"I worked late."

I sound like a textbook adulterer.

My head jerks up when I see the tears in her eyes.

"You should have called. I thought something had happened to you."

"Hales…"

"No, Nathan! What if something had happened to you? You didn't even call and I didn't want to be the nagging wife checking up on you. You could have been lying in a ditch someplace, someone slicing you open to sell your kidneys on the black market and then the police would have come knocking with a plastic bag holding your head to ask me if I recognized you…"

She's in hysterics.

"Haley!"

"What!"

"Is this about your nightmare last night?"

She blinks rapidly and looks away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I walk to her, kneeling beside the chair. "Yes, you do. You woke up screaming and then you told me you had a nightmare about me dying. Remember?"

I was scared shitless when her scream woke me up after that nightmare. She was sweating and crying, her entire body shaking as she held onto me. It broke my heart.

She's staring at the empty fireplace, avoiding my eyes.

"Look at me, Hales."

When she does, she looks scared. Her voice sounds so small and childlike when she speaks.

"I know I left you, but I don't want you to leave me."

I take her hands in mine, rubbing them together. "Where would I go?"

She sniffles.

"I'm not going anywhere, Hales. It was just a dream. I'm okay. What did you tell me about the dreams?"

"I don't remember," she fibs.

"That it's normal to have nightmares. You've been through something traumatic and it will take time for that fear to go away. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for you, okay?"

She nods.

Sliding my arms under her, I carefully lift her off the chair.

"I'm sorry I didn't call. I thought you'd be asleep already and I didn't want to wake you."

"It's okay," she mumbles against my chest. "You smell good."

"I showered. I know you don't like seeing my greasy overalls."

"Sometimes I do," she says, rubbing the tip of her nose along my jaw.

Although the doctor tells her that her leg is healing at a good speed, Haley's unable to use too many stairs on her own. Three or four steps are fine but going up a flight takes a lot of effort. She tried to walk downstairs last weekend and she almost fell.

I don't mind carrying her. She's a lightweight and I'd rather carry her than let her struggle with the stairs.

After helping her into bed, I walk back downstairs to lock up the house. It's a safe neighbourhood, but we have a baby in the house.

I groan sleepily as I crawl under the sheets, exhausted. Haley turns over, wrapping an arm around my waist, nuzzling her head on my chest. I will never get tired of this.

I'm half asleep when I hear her mumble, "I forgot to tell you. Epic Records called."


	19. Chapter 19

As I pour out my second cup of coffee, I'm still contemplating how to start the conversation. I am now certain that I wasn't dreaming when I heard her say it last night.

Subtlety has never really been my strong suit, so I'll just stick to the facts. Besides, we're both not very good at beating around the bush with each other.

I turn to face her. "Epic Records."

Her cup is midway to her lips. "What?"

"They called you yesterday."

She frowns. "How do you know that?"

"You told me."

"When?"

"Last night."

"How?"

"Does it matter?"

"Kinda does."

"In your sleep."

"I did? Do I talk in my sleep? How come you've never told me?"

"Haley."

"Yeah."

"What the fuck did they want?"

Haley's story was aired on local TV and the bigwigs in New York must have picked up on it somehow.

"To be part of their charity album."

She sips her tea, watching me closely.

"Still?"

She nods. She's making this difficult for me, on purpose.

"Why?"

I clench my fingers on the kitchen counter.

"Same as before," she shrugs. "They liked the song I did for Peyton's album and they want me for theirs."

I hesitate.

"What did you say?"

I'm afraid of hearing her answer.

"That I will talk to my husband."

I didn't know I was holding my breath until I exhale. Loudly.

"Did you actually think I would say yes? Unbelievable!" she yells.

At that moment, my mom walks into the kitchen, Jamie on her hip.

"Well, we're off."

She's taking him to the zoo. Haley loses her anger like she's shed skin, converting to complete syrupiness.

"Come give Mommy a cuddle, sweetie."

She takes him from my mom, hugging and kissing him.

"Enjoy yourself, okay, baby?" she says.

I lean over to rub his cheek. "Have fun, buddy."

"Puh! Puh!" he babbles.

"Take lots of pictures," Haley calls out as my mom walks away.

"I will!"

Once she's gone, Haley whips her head back to look at me, her eyes blazing. That didn't take long.

"Well? Did you actually think I would agree to it before talking to you?" she asks furiously.

I don't know what to say without stirring up a hornet's nest. Instead of answering, I take a sip of my coffee.

She takes a sip of her tea.

It's a staring contest, a stand-off, each of us looking over our cups as we finish our breakfast in silence. Not a word is said.

As I load the dishwasher, I inquire about her plans.

"You have any plans today?" I ask, trying to get back into her good graces.

Her eyes flash at me. She's still mad.

"Peyton is picking me up."

"Where are you going?"

"Why? Can't you guess? You seem to know that I agree to things quite easily."

"Haley—"

"I don't want to argue about this shit with you, Nathan."

She slides off the stool, adjusting the crutches under her arms and hobbling towards the living room. The tips of the crutches clink against the floor as she limps away from me.

I don't follow her.

Even though she's in the other room, the house is silent and feels empty to me.

There is then a loud honking in the driveway, which sounds a lot like Peyton's car.

I hear shuffling and the rhythmic clattering of crutches, the opening of the door and then a loud bang. After they drive off, the emptiness settles in again.

I fucked up.

* * *

My shift at the garage doesn't start until two, so I have time to kill. I choose to spend the morning at the River Court rather than an empty house. And I need to think about what to say to Haley about the album offer.

I find the guys at the River Court. The only ones I know well are Lucas, Skills and Mouth; Junk and Fergie play with us when they can and Jimmy is usually commentating about our plays alongside Mouth.

We play for a while, with Lucas taking breaks in between because of his heart condition.

"You okay?" Luke asks.

From where we are on the bleachers, I look out at the busy dock.

"Epic Records called Haley yesterday."

He whistles. "I thought that story died when she died."

I breathe out a dry laugh, turning to him. "Nope. They still want her. How the hell did they find out about her being alive, anyway?"

Luke shakes his head. "They probably have spies in Tree Hill."

We watch the others play for a while, and it amuses me to see Mouth and Jimmy attempts to shoot. They're worth shit on the court but they know how to announce a game from start to finish.

"She's mad at me," I tell him.

"Why?"

I rub at my knee. "She told them she'd talk to me, and my reaction to that wasn't exactly commendable."

"What do you mean?"

"Body language doesn't lie, man."

"You thought she'd say yes?"

I shrug. "Part of me did. I just don't want history to repeat itself."

Lucas slaps me on the shoulder. "It won't. You guys learnt something from that tour thing. It'd be dumb of both of you to make the same mistake, especially with Jamie involved. You trust her, don't you?"

I look at him like he's out of his mind. Even after the tour, when I told her I didn't trust her, I've never mistrusted her of doing something that would damage us and what we have. But today, I regret reacting like I did to her news. She's probably wondering whether I don't trust her anymore.

"Of course I do. But she has an amazing gift. I just don't want to be the reason she doesn't get everything she deserves. And when she says yes, what if…"

"What if what?"

"What if they require too much of her? The traveling and the tours and all that time on the road? She didn't want to do the album because of it. She doesn't want to be away from Jamie. She wants to go to college without being obligated to do shit like that."

"Then tell her that. And I don't think she thinks that you're holding her back. You're the one who gave her the courage to get up on stage in the first place."

We sit quietly as we hydrate.

"Peyton picked her up. Where were they going?"

"Strip club?"

"Funny. What strip club is open on a Saturday morning, anyway?"

He laughs. "Something about some art show. Or shopping. I don't remember."

"And what's with you and strip clubs?"

"Hey, they're perfectly legit."

I grin as I nudge his shoulder. "Don't let Peyton hear you say that. She'll chop your fucking balls off."

He laughs as he gets up from the bench. "One more game?"

"Sure your heart can keep up?"

"I'm eighteen, not eighty. Come on," Luke says as he dribbles.

"You're eighteen with an eighty-year-old's heart."

I actually feel better by the time I get home.

No one's back yet, and the house feels dead. I fucking hate that; it reminds me too much of those months when I thought that Hales was dead.

I don't stick around for long, grabbing my uniform and getting the hell out of there. On my way to work, I think about calling Haley. I even take out my phone and stare at her number, but I figure she's still angry with me. I deserve it, anyway. Most likely, she won't pick up. Or she'll pass it to Peyton, who'll be rolling her eyes so loud that I'll be able to hear it.

She didn't want to go to New York but I convinced her to. Why doubt her about what she told Epic Records?

At the risk of sounding like a doubting husband, there's a small part of me that is scared out of my mind that music would take precedence over us. And it's that small part of me that sold me out this morning.

* * *

"I'm sorry," is the first thing I say when I slide into bed beside her.

She must have been so furious with me that she battled it up the stairs on her crutches.

Whenever I hurt her, she does whatever it takes not to have to rely on me. She would rather take the bus or call Lucas, Peyton or Brooke to give her a ride to school when our fight isn't resolved than ride with me.

"Hales."

Her back is to me and she shifts around on the bed until we're face-to-face.

"I don't want you to resent us for not having a great career in music," I confess, ignoring my pride. "And I don't want you to leave again."

Her face softens, her eyes starting to glisten.

"It's not that I don't trust you, but I just don't want to go through what we did before."

She puts a hand on my cheek. "We're stronger now, baby."

"I know, but it's just…this is what you love to do."

Rubbing her thumb on my cheek, she asks, "Nathan, would you pick basketball before us?"

What the fuck is she asking?

"Of course not."

"Exactly," she says, looking a little smug. "You and Jamie come first. I wouldn't choose music over you. Not again. I know when it comes to our dreams we both get concerned about the choices and sacrifices we'd have to make but I would never jeopardize my family for music."

We're in silence for some time.

"You should do it," I whisper.

I'm so fucking proud of her that I'm choking on it, really proud that a major record label is seeking her out for her gift.

She thinks about it for a moment.

"Are you sure?"

I reach for her hand on my cheek and intertwine our fingers.

"You have to do it. And I really want you to do it. People should hear your music."

She kisses me softly. "It's only for the summer."

"Will you have to go to New York?"

"I don't think so. There's an independent recording studio in Charlotte that they want to use."

"You'll have to commute all summer? Daily? How the shit are you supposed to get there with an injured leg? Are they giving you a driver? How long does recording take? Do they want you to tour?"

She laughs, burying her head in my chest.

"Details, honey. We'll work them out later. Now come here," she says as she reaches for me again.


	20. Chapter 20

Sunday morning, it's just Jamie and I who are up, playing video games. Well, I'm playing and he's in his playpen. Haley is still asleep and my mom is helping Karen out at the café because of the brunch crowd.

"This is how the experts do it, Jame. It would work better if I had someone to play with but your mom sucks at this, Tim is nursing a hangover and Uncle Lucas is still asleep."

Jamie is looking at me while I talk. I think he actually listens to us. The books say that at his age, we should talk to him even if he knows squat. My tiny best pal.

"A hangover is a result of a night of going nuts, buddy. You think you'll be a wild child like me or a straight edge like Mommy?"

"Mmmm!"

"Thank you. But when you're older, I think you'll be great at this."

"Ggggg!" he gurgles, teething ring in his mouth.

"That's right. And I bet you'll beat me every time."

"Bbbbb!"

"Seriously. You have Mommy's competitive nature, you know."

He shrieks delightedly and I laugh.

"Why? Well, seeing how you don't like it when her attention—"

"Nathan…"

Haley's up.

"Speaking of."

I pause the game, drop the controller on the couch and walk towards her voice.

"Morning, sleepy—"

From the doorway, she looks ashen and she's swaying slightly on the stairs. I'm momentarily paralyzed.

She lets out a slow moan, her crutches seeming to slip under her as her legs give out. Somehow, my feet are on the move as I run to her before she collapses and falls over.

"Haley!"

Her face feels hot when I touch her.

"Jesus…Baby! Haley!"

I lay her down gently at the bottom of the stairs, rushing back to the living room in a panic to look for my cell phone.

Phone in hand, I run back to Haley, kneeling beside her still body. In my increasing panic, I dial the wrong number twice.

_"911, what's your emergency?"_

"I need an ambulance! My…my wife just collapsed and I can't wake her up!"

I shake her again but she's unresponsive. "Haley! Baby, wake up!"

Her face is so pale that I can't help but wonder if some invisible being is draining her of blood.

_"Sir, what is your location?" _

"What? Haley! Wake up! Haley!"

I don't want to move her in case I make things worse. I push her hair away from her face with trembling fingers.

Has she slipped into another coma?

_"Sir, could you please give me your address?" _

"My – 20…2060 Green Acres Road! Please hurry!"

I hang up. I'm so stunned that I can't comprehend anything, but Jamie's wailing from the living room penetrates my head that's swelling with obscenities.

On shaky legs, I rush to him, scooping him out of the playpen. From the tears that have streaked his face, he has been crying for a while.

"Sorry, buddy. It's okay. They're coming to help her."

I kiss his temple, rubbing his hair, calming him down, and myself.

"Shhh, it's okay."

Is it really okay? Is she in another coma?

I pace the living room, not wanting to put Jamie down and at the same time wanting to hold Haley's hand while I wait. I just don't want Jamie to see her sprawled out like that.

When I hear the ambulance sirens, I hurry to open the door. With Jamie in my arms, I wait anxiously until the red and white van stops in front of the house.

"What took you so fucking long!?" I shout.

"Sir, we came as fast as we could," says the first paramedic.

I rush back into the house, facing Jamie away from Haley.

"Could you please tell me what happened?" he asks as he kneels next to her.

"She just fell! She was coming down the stairs and she called for me and then…Is she still breathing!?"

The paramedic reaches for her hand. "There's a pulse. Is she a diabetic? Epileptic?"

What?

"Sir, is she a d—"

"No! What are we waiting for? Take her to the hospital!"

He looks pointedly at me. "I assure you we'll get her there but I need to examine her first."

There's a sound in the hallway and I look back to see the second paramedic pushing a gurney.

A lifetime later, after they poke and prod her, they lift Haley up onto the gurney.

"Are you coming with us?" he asks.

"I – I'll follow you. My son…"

Picking up Jamie's jacket and my car keys, I follow them out the door. She's not opened her eyes even once or responded to anything.

Trailing behind the ambulance, it feels like hours by the time we get to the hospital.

* * *

"Mr. Scott?"

I make sure I don't get up too fast in case I startle Jamie. He has been calm and quiet since the ride to the hospital.

"Yes?"

"I'd like to ask you some questions."

After my nod, he continues, "I understand that your wife was in the train accident in New Jersey?"

"Yes, she was."

"Has she been overworking herself?"

"She just came home a few weeks ago. I…Is something wrong with her?"

My heart is still beating fast where it is after it leaped to my mouth.

"The trauma to her head from the accident, coupled with doing too much without proper rest, made her faint. She didn't hit her head when she fell, did she?"

I shake my head. "No. I got to her before she did."

He nods. "Good. That could have been catastrophic. She's going to be fine as long as she takes it easy. I see no reason to keep her overnight."

"Are you sure?"

The doctor's mouth curls up slightly. "Yes, I'm sure. And she asked for her cast to be removed."

He looks down at the clipboard. "From my observation, her leg suffered a spiral fracture, damage to the fibula and ligament, and a torn Achilles tendon. The injuries have healed at quite a good rate and there's no endangering reason to keep the plaster on."

"Are—"

He laughs. "I'm sure. Calm down, Mr. Scott. She'll be fine. Provided she elevates the booted leg and doesn't put all her weight on it, it will completely heal. I also suggest setting up physical therapy sessions. They are very helpful for injuries like hers."

"Okay."

"We have an excellent physiotherapy clinic here at the hospital I can refer you to."

"Thank you. Can I see her?"

The doctor leads me to a curtained partition.

"I'll get your paperwork," he says as he walks away.

She's lying on her side, her now-booted leg put up on some pillows, her eyes closed.

I feel steadier, although still terrified, as I watch her on the hospital bed. My thoughts drift back to earlier, seeing in slow motion her body begin to fall, as if her puppeteer suddenly found her a useless marionette.

"You scared the shit out of me."

She looks up, smiling slightly. "I'm sorry."

Jamie wiggles in my arms at hearing her voice and I lay him next to her, kissing her cheek.

"What happened back there?"

"I just felt woozy when I got out of bed. It passed but when I was coming downstairs, I felt it again. And then I became sweaty and breathless and I remember calling you but that's it…"

Sitting on the bed, I take her hand. I'm hit by a pang of the terror I felt when I saw her like that on the staircase.

"You're pushing yourself too hard. The doctor has restricted you to bed rest."

"Nathan..."

"Haley…"

"I feel fine. It was just a dizzy spell."

"Just a dizzy spell?"

My heartbeat sounds like a crashing wave to my ears and I take in a deep breath.

"It was not just a dizzy spell. If you didn't call for me and if I didn't catch you in time, you would have split your head open," I say firmly.

She rolls her eyes at me. "You're exaggerating."

"You want me to call the doctor?"

"Fine," she sighs. "But I'm not an invalid."

"Newsflash, babe. You _are _an invalid. You've noticed your leg has been in a cast for weeks, haven't you?"

She chuckles. "Shut up. But I refuse to let you carry me to the bathroom or between classes."

"Classes?"

"I have to go to school, Nathan."

Did they give her something illegal to smoke or inhale?

"You realize that school is part of you being in a hospital bed? You've been pushing yourself too much for weeks."

"No, it's not. Besides, I can't leave my tutees hanging like that."

"Leave that to me."

"But I—"

"Haley."

"What?" she asks, annoyed.

Are there people born for school?

Heaving a sigh, I rub my thumb on the back of her hand.

"No buts, Haley. I need you alive, okay? Just humour me for a while. Until you're stronger, you're on bed rest. Please don't be in such a rush to get better, okay?"

She narrows her eyes at me for a moment and then rolls them at me again. "Fine."

"Thank you."

"You're lucky you're cute. I can hang out at the café, right?"

"No. Your life is pretty straightforward from now on. Home, school, home, physiotherapy. If you want to hang out, you can ask them to come over."

"Physiotherapy?"

"Physiotherapy. How else do you think those leg muscles will heal correctly? A Shaman?"

"God, you're so bossy."

"You love it."

"I do."

I lean over to kiss her, relieved that she's going to be okay.

Jamie, unhappy with the neglect, hits me on the chest with his fist.

"Let's get you home, you green-eyed little monster," I chuckle, tickling his foot.

"He's a blue-eyed little monster."

"Hales, that makes no sense. How does being blue-eyed relate to being jealous? Aren't you the English genius?"

"He's not jealous!"

"Have you not noticed how he kicks me when I kiss you?"

"He loves me."

"A little too much."

"Are you saying that he's a mama's boy?"

"Damn straight. You've cajoled him. I hope to God he won't be begging to sleep with us when he's fourteen."

She looks horrified. "I haven't cajoled him."

"His eyes follow you around the room. He whines whenever you hold Lily. He cries if you're not in the room. He only falls asleep when you sing to him. How is it that you've not spoilt him?"

She curls her lip. "Tell Daddy to stop being so jealous, Jame."

Jamie is squealing as Haley blows raspberries on his belly.

"That's right! Bbbbbb! Daddy's just jealous!"

"If he poops, you're changing him."

"Hey, I'm an invalid, remember?"

"Not when it comes to this you're not."


	21. Chapter 21

"What are you doing out of bed?" I holler reprovingly, placing the cup of tea on the bedside table.

Haley is standing in front of the mirror, supported by her crutches, buttoning her top.

"Looking at myself."

"I can see that, genius. Are you planning to go somewhere?"

"I have a date with Lucas."

Is she serious?

"Really?"

"Really."

"Cancel it. You're supposed to be on bed rest."

She mumbles under her breath.

"What was that?"

"I said, 'make me'," she shoots back, staring at me through the mirror.

She blows her hair out of her face, her defiant face showing. The one that usually means she's challenging me.

"I've been on bed rest for the last three days, Nathan. Three. Days," she emphasizes.

"I want to go to school. I want to hang out at the café with our friends. Or the River Court. I just want to get out of this house. Even if it's to the goddamn mailbox!"

She turns around and looks at me pleadingly.

"Please, Nathan?" she begs, smiling sweetly. "Please?"

I suppress a smile. "You remember the last time you did too much?"

Seeing her fall like that made my blood run cold and I still can't get over it. I've never seen anyone pass out and her body just seemed to shut down and slump.

Was I the same when I collapsed on the court? It's no wonder she was worried.

"Oh my God, will you let it go? A walk to the docks won't kill me."

"Let it go? Are you serious? You passed out three days ago. You could have cracked your head open again. Would you have wanted Jamie to see your brains splattered all over the walls?"

"You are so dramatic."

"When it comes to you or our son, I don't give a damn about being king of the drama queens. You, by the way, are the worst patient ever."

"I was not overdoing it. I had to catch up with everything after missing so much."

The best way to deal with a dramatic Haley is to be calm.

I lift my eyes to the ceiling, breathing out slowly. "You were overdoing it. Are you saying the doctor was wrong?"

She shrugs. "What happened to my tutees, anyway? Remember AP Biology Evan? He needs his Bio credits, remember?"

"I remember. He—"

"Did you give all my students to Martha Schubert? You know she hates me. I don't know how such an anti-people person can be a tutor."

She points a crutch at me. "By the way, thanks to your Nazi behaviour, I've been missing out on Physics and Chemistry practicals. I need those credits before I graduate."

Unfuckingbelievable.

"Haley, you've cinched your spot as valedictorian. No one is going to snatch it out from under you and no one cares that you don't get a perfect score after what you went through."

Fluffing the pillows, I'm amazed that I can make a bed so effortlessly after getting accustomed to doing it. I wasn't one of those kids who made their bed, leaving it as it was when I got up and just pulling the covers over me when I got back in it.

She huffs out loudly, throwing her hands up in the air, managing not to drop the crutches.

"You cannot be serious. How do you expect me to have a clear conscience when I have a 3.8 on my application after years of a perfect GPA? Do you want me to get ulcers?"

"What are you talking about? Why would you lose sleep over that?"

I push the duvet aside. "And get over here."

"You make me so furious. Have you not been married to me this whole time?"

"And you call me the drama queen? Two points, Haley. You got a ninety-eight percent in French, when everyone else was getting forties, fifties and sixties. And the world kept spinning! It was not a disaster."

"You better take that back before you jinx my academic life."

"Like hell I will."

"Well, thanks a lot. Don't blame me when I'm embarrassing the shit out of you at Duke with my F's. Blame your voodoo."

I stand up straighter. She got into Duke? She got into Duke!

"You got into Duke?"

"Yes!"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to."

"When?"

"Today. Stop distracting me!"

"Will you just come back to bed?"

"Are you joining me?" she asks suggestively.

"Are you planning to use sex to get your way?"

She gasps. "No! That's beneath me!"

It's really not. I know my wife. She has used sex in the past to get her way. It's only _after_ that I realize what just happened, vowing to be stronger next time. It never works. This woman will be the death of me.

"I cannot even believe that you'd suggest that."

"It's the truth."

She narrows her eyes at me. "Just for that, I could ask you not to bother buying prom tickets."

"Who said I intended to buy prom tickets?"

Her eyes narrow. "You were not taking me to prom?"

I shrug, saying dryly, "After your little stint at trying to be super woman, I'm not giving you a chance to pass out again. Or God forbid, you get high on spiked punch and dance your way to a wall."

"You make it sound like I have a drinking problem."

"You don't handle alcohol very well."

"Do you two need to be spanked?" my mom asks from the doorway.

We both turn to look at her.

"Haley is just so…stubborn."

"Compared to you?"

"You're both pigheaded. Could you fight quietly? Didn't you put Jamie down for his nap a short while ago, Nate? And I'm trying to sleep before my date tonight."

Haley bursts out laughing at the expression on my face. I stare at my mom, my mouth agape.

"Your…?"

"A date, Nathan. With a man, in case you're wondering."

And then she walks away.

I feel as though there's no blood flow in my head right now.

"Honey, are you okay?"

She shuffles to me and waves a hand in front of my face. "Nathan?"

"Don't say it."

"Say what?"

She looks so innocent but given the opportunity, she'll say it.

"I hoped I'd be away at college by the time she…"

I sit on the edge of the bed, my hands on my knees.

My mom. Dating. Is it weird that I'm having this weird reaction?

"And you say Jamie is a mama's boy? It's no big deal, Nathan."

She sits beside me on the bed, absolutely bursting with excitement.

I glare at her. "Talk to me when he wants to go out on his first date at the age of six."

"I told you! I told you she was dating!" she blurts.

She had to say it.

"Really, Haley?"

"Oh, come on. You were expecting it."

"That's it. I was rethinking it but now? Now, I'm not taking you to prom. Sex won't get you what you want. Pouting won't get you what you want. Crying won't get you what you want. Sulking won't get you what you want. Nothing will. I mean it, Hales. Don't you dare leave this house. You know I'll get to the bottom of the stairs before you're even halfway down. And I won't be so nice bringing you back up here."

When I walk out of the room, I hear a loud clank behind me. Turning back, one of Haley's crutches is decorating our bedroom doorway.

* * *

"Come in."

She's in bed flipping through a magazine, sleeping mask on her forehead.

"Let me guess," she shuts the magazine. "This is about my date tonight."

I stand at the foot of the bed, my hands in my pocket, nervous. I never had "the birds and the bees" talk with my parents, or anything related to dating and relationships for that matter. Tim's older brother had a vast collection of magazines and videos, and when anything was unclear, we always asked him. He was always ready to give a detailed answer. We were six.

"I'm not getting any younger, Nate. Do you know how many middle-aged women are out there? And apparently they call us cougars. Like we're hunting for prey. I'll need Botox and boob jobs and tummy tucks to compete with them all."

I blanch. "Thanks for the image, Mom."

"All I'm saying is that it's tough out there for women my age. I'm a grandmother, for heaven's sake. Your father was a dick and I was an absentee wife. It wasn't the best marriage but we had some good moments. I'm just tired of being lonely, Nate. Can you understand that?"

"Do I know him?" I ask her after a moment of silence.

"As a matter of fact, you do. He goes to your school."

Wait, what?

"It's your friend Skills."

My ears are ringing.

"What?" I manage to whisper.

She laughs out loud. So hard that she wipes a few tears from her eyes.

"That wasn't funny. Fuck, you're cradle snatching now?"

"Language."

I cannot even imagine how awkward it would be if she were dating one of my friends.

She chuckles, waving a hand away. "Oh, please. Skills is definitely handsome but I'll wait a while longer to snatch him."

I don't want to listen anymore. "Mom, please…"

"Anyway, he moved to Tree Hill some time ago and he teaches sophomores World History. Don't worry, we're in the same age-group," she grins.

"Allan Alin. Isn't that a funny name?"

She giggles. My mom giggles.

She then looks at me seriously. "He's a good guy, Nate. You'd like him."

Already?

She laughs. "You can meet him later on, then."

"Mom, I may not be comfortable with this yet but I hope he makes you happy."

I honestly do. I want her to be happy. Being alone in this big house isn't the best thing for anybody, especially her. I wouldn't want that loneliness to lead her back to the pills and alcohol.

It was loneliness that drove her to them in the first place.


	22. Chapter 22

"Are you seriously not taking her to prom?"

"Of course not. She deserves to go. I was just messing with her," I say before downing some water.

Summer's approaching and it's getting hotter.

"She took it really seriously. She rang me and talked for about ten minutes straight and the names she called you…" Peyton whistles. "…you wouldn't want to know."

Oh, I know. She didn't have to say anything; the silent treatment this morning and the many pillows separating us in bed last night said it all.

"I figured she was still annoyed."

She nudges me. "You have no idea how mad she was. I didn't get a word in edgewise the entire time she was cursing you. Dude, you need to tell her."

Lucas nods. "She was still pissed today when I rode with her to school."

I bought the prom tickets before Haley collapsed but when she did, I was skeptical about taking her. Still, if anyone deserves a good night out with her friends, it's her.

"Didn't she pass out from stress? This counts as stress. Shouldn't she be on bed rest, anyway?"

"Nice, Luke. Way to go making me feel like the fucking Husband of the Year."

"You're welcome."

"Whatever, squinty. She said she was getting tired of staying at home. By the way, how could you agree to meet up with her when you knew she was on bed rest?"

He looks away. "Um, it's Haley, Nate. She…"

He's mumbling.

"What was that?"

He looks up, speaking softly through gritted teeth. "She threatened me."

"What could she possibly have on you that you always give in to her so easily?"

"Not always."

"Are you blushing?"

He squints at me. "No."

He is. The tip of his nose always sells him out. It's fucking weird and hilarious.

"That friendship vault. Even so, she's the most difficult person I've ever met."

They both laugh.

"What?"

"Are you fucking serious?" Lucas asks.

"Serious about what? Haley being stubborn? Do you know what she did when we got home from the hospital? She took out her organizer. Her organizer. When the doctor had clearly said that she wasn't to—"

They're still laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, man! You really can't see it, can you?" Peyton replies, giggling.

"See what?" I ask, tilting my head, clueless.

What the hell are they talking about? Has Haley done something hilarious?

Lucas slaps me on the shoulder. "Nate, you're as stubborn as she is. She focuses on tutoring when she's sick, you show up at practice when you're sick. She takes out her organizer, you take out your game plays. Neither of you is a pushover, you're both strong-willed and firm with each other, yet respectful. It would be a frustrating and irritating drawback for most couples, but I think you both appreciate that about each other."

"I should've asked you to attend our wedding," I tell him.

"Why?"

"That would have made a great toast," I smirk.

"I can recycle it for the next one," he grins.

"There's a next wedding?" Peyton asks, wowed.

"Of course there is. Haley's always wanted the whole car-cake-confetti kind of wedding."

I've always wanted that for her.

"When is it?"

"Someday."

We've just never gotten around to it. We've talked about it but not in too much detail. Is it possible to do it this summer? I almost lost her, for Christ's sake.

Disapprovingly, she says, "Please don't tell me it's going to be on your silver anniversary. I won't be looking good then."

"Dentures were made for a reason, Sawyer."

We laugh good-naturedly, a little too loud that a few students stare in our direction.

"In all seriousness, there'll be a wedding, while we're still upright, but I'll need a bride for that to happen. I haven't talked to her since last night, and she's kind of sticking it to me by coming back to school."

She's also tutored and made up for the practicals she missed, barely a day after coming back to school. Like I said, Haley is the worst patient ever.

"So what have you planned for her?" Peyton asks as she pulls out her lunch from her bag.

No apple today. I take that back. There's a green one in her hand.

"Planned for her? You think I should get revenge because she came back to school? Jeez, Peyton, I didn't realize you were that hang up on Haley and I getting married. But if you want us to be together again that badly…"

She rolls her eyes.

"I'm not sure, though. I was thinking of a limo…"

"Nate, this is your wife who was dead for two months. Do better than that."

I glare at her. "Peyton, what the hell is up with you and apples? It sounds like you're chewing on gravel when you bite."

Luke pumps my fist. Peyton looks fiercely at both of us.

"I've told her before and she thinks I'm lying."

"Who's lying?"

I didn't hear her walking towards us. God knows her crutches were always clicking loudly because she was channeling the hate she had for them. The boot makes her stealth.

"Hi, wife."

She looks at me and turns away, dropping her bag on the table.

"_Lucas_, who has been lying?"

Sitting across from me, she starts pulling out books from her bag.

"Where are your crutches?"

"How's everyone doing today?"

"I'm fine, thank you for asking."

Completely ignoring me, her eyes go back and forth between Peyton and Lucas, who are both looking at us back and forth.

"Where's the sandwich I packed for you?"

She doesn't answer, leafing through her book.

"Why are you so stubborn?"

She turns a page.

"How long are you going to give me the silent treatment? If you don't talk to me, I'll pick a preschool for Jamie without consulting you. And we both know—"

She glares hard at me. "Don't you even mention that horrible school where they just play video games."

She huffs and goes back to looking through her book.

"How are you supposed to get better when you don't even eat lunch? Lunch that I made for you!"

She slams the book shut, glowering back at me. "It was a sandwich, not gourmet lobster. And stop yelling at me!"

"Someone has to!"

"If you must know, I ate back at the Tutor Centre."

"Thank you."

"I didn't want to waste my appetite out here."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I'm making you lose your appetite now, am I? You didn't seem to think so two nights ago."

She purses her mouth tightly. "You want to announce to the entire school just how great of a sex life we have? Do you need a microphone?"

"Guys, please," Lucas pleads.

"We have a son, Lucas. Dry humping was not involved."

He pales so much I'm afraid he could vomit.

I get up and walk over to her side of the table.

"Is this about prom?" I ask as I sit next to her.

She turns to me. Her eyes are shining with tears. I told you Hales is pretty sensitive.

"What else would it be about? My _husband_ doesn't want to take me to prom. Our senior prom," she says huskily, her voice quivering.

"Hales…"

"I would think that you would be excited about taking me to prom. At least _pretend_ to want to take me to prom."

She narrows her teary eyes at me. "I'm getting strange vibes from you about this whole thing. Are you embarrassed to accompany a girl with a broken leg? Is that it? Do I embarrass you, Nathan?"

I fight hard not to laugh. "You don't embarrass me."

"Then what is it? Would you rather take that cheerleading devil? Or is it that you think I should be on bed rest? You should be lucky that I've caught up with everyone else in class or else they would revoke my vale—"

She's babbling.

"Haley!"

"What!"

"We're going to prom."

Her face softens and her mouth curls into that beautiful smile.

"We are?"

"We are."

"You're taking me to prom?"

I kiss her on the lips. "Of course I am, you nerd."

She kisses me back. "Really?"

"Really."

"You're so sweet."

"You're hot when you're mad."

"We should fight more."

"We should."

"So you think we have a great sex life?"

"The greatest."

All this between deep kisses.

"Hey, people are eating over here," Lucas hisses. "This is not a porn set."

"How come Nathan wasn't that affectionate when we were dating?" Peyton asks.

We both ignore them, kissing again.

"I didn't congratulate you properly on getting into Duke," I whisper in her ear.

She laughs softly, pecking my neck. "How long do we have until the next class?"

"Luke, what time is it 'til the next class?"

"Twenty-one minutes," he growls.

I stand, extending my hand out to her. "Want to check out the janitor's closet, Mrs. Scott? We can work something out in twenty-one minutes."

We also ignore their shouts of disgust.


	23. Chapter 23

"I don't want to wait. I can walk to the bus stop."

We halt at the elevators and she leans on the wall, stretching her back.

"You were told not to put weight on that leg and you want to walk to the bus stop?"

"Well, yeah," she says, sounding bored.

"Don't leave, you hear me? Until that leg is given a clean bill of health, you wait for me to pick you up. Got it?"

"I'm wearing an orthopedic boot, Nathan. It's providing support while my leg heals."

I glare at her. "Do you want me to buy a tracking device, Haley?"

"Didn't you already?" she grins.

"It was faulty. I'm waiting for a replacement. You may have that boot but you're still on crutches. I know you're independent, except when it comes to mooching off rides from your friends—"

"Hey!"

"—but, I said I'm going to pick you up and I'll be here."

I swear from the way we argue you'd think we've been married for thirty years.

She looks at me thoughtfully.

"What about basketball?"

"I'll cut early. Whitey will understand."

"But your last game is on Friday and you need to prepare."

"I don't care. I'm your chauffeur until you get better."

She chuckles. "I hope you're not thinking I'll be home during your last game in high school, though."

"Nope. I wasn't thinking that at all."

I was.

She raises her eyebrows. "Sure you weren't."

The girl knows me so well.

The physiotherapist we were referred to is a tall muscular guy called Nick. I'm six-four and I have to crane my neck a little to look him in the eye. Haley looks minute next to him.

"You must be Haley."

His voice surprisingly has a soft lilt to it.

"Yes. Hi. This is my husband, Nathan."

We shake hands, mine swallowed up in his.

He doesn't mention how young we are to be married. I'm never surprised at the number of strangers who are quick to say something along those lines.

"We should begin. All set?"

"Um…"

"Don't worry. We won't do too much, just go over the basics. Like improving your mobility and strength, pain-relieving techniques, flexibility, maintaining your balance on your heels."

"That's not much?" I ask.

He grins. "It's actually simpler than it sounds. I'll show you what equipment we'll use during your therapy and we'll also do some exercises. You ready?"

"Yeah," Haley says.

She looks a bit apprehensive.

"We'll be done in an hour," he tells me.

I nod at him and turn to Haley.

"You'll be fine."

She nods, swinging her booted leg a little. She looks like a kindergartener being dropped off on her first day of school.

"No bus stops, Hales."

"Okay."

"I mean it."

She smirks. "Me, too."

I kiss her quickly.

"One hour."

She nods and kisses me again before following Nick into the physiotherapy suite.

* * *

I find her waiting for me on a bench outside the hospital, reading a newspaper.

"Why are you out here? Did they kick you out?"

She laughs, handing me the paper. "TV was depressing me in the waiting room."

"And the paper is better?"

"I wasn't reading it. I was strategizing."

"Strategizing what?"

I flip through it as we walk to the car. Go figure. Disasters are the headlines, as usual.

"Where to begin looking for apartments."

"I thought we agreed to wait until summer."

"I know. I'm just—"

"—strategizing," I finish. "Any luck?"

"A few look good."

"But by the time we get down there they could be gone."

"Maybe not all of them."

I help her into the car, pushing the seat a little farther back before she gets in.

"How did it go?" I ask as I buckle in.

She lays her head back on the headrest, groaning. "I'm so sore."

"Good thing or bad thing?"

"Good thing. Nick says the stretching will help in improving functionality and muscle strength, and it's a twisted way of pain relief."

"Look at you, Dr. Scott."

"Shut up."

I laugh, turning the ignition. "What? You'd make a good doctor. A pediatrician."

"Cadavers?" she grimaces. "No, thank you. The soreness has to happen, anyway. No pain, no gain and all that. He also said that massages and heating pads help."

I veer off to the left. "Wouldn't a massage cause you more pain?"

"You won't be kneading dough. Just be gentle."

"Me? How is it that you assume I will take that responsibility?"

She smirks. "Jamie can't do it. And weren't you the one who said you're at my beck and call?"

"Chauffeur. Not personal masseuse."

She laughs and I grin at her. I'd do anything for this girl.

"Is Jamie home?"

"Yeah. Mom picked him up from daycare."

She leans back and closes her eyes. "I missed him."

"I know."

"By the way, I'll need a notebook."

"What for?"

Peeking out of one eye, she says, "Taking notes during physiotherapy."

* * *

I'm anxious about the game tonight.

We really want to win the championship trophy for Tree Hill, for Whitey; we all want a last win before we're off to college.

I wasn't there when they qualified for the finals but I'm hoping to make up for it by helping in winning this last game.

We're warming up on the court waiting for the whistle when I look up at the bleachers for the hundredth time. The gym is packed, with people still streaming in. Uncle Keith and Karen are in the middle row but there's no sign of Haley.

As the team had to come in early for practice and warm up drills, I haven't seen Haley since lunch. I couldn't even take her to physiotherapy, my mom doing it.

Seeing her in the court makes me feel better, play better even. Like that first game when I was aware she was there after she began tutoring me; each basket I made was my own version of a Haley James pickup line.

I finally spot her settling into the second row just behind Mouth, wearing the trademark navy blue Ravens polo t-shirt, one cheek painted _"23"_ and the other _"NS+HJS"_.

Usually, she would be on the floor with the rest of the cheerleaders but because of her leg, she has to be a spectator.

Running over, I feel like I haven't seen her in years.

"Hi, baby," she greets me with a kiss.

"Hey, yourself. How are you? How did it go today?"

"Good," she smiles. "I can twist my foot without cursing or wanting to curse."

I laugh, leaning over to kiss her nose. "That's fantastic."

She tips an imaginary hat.

"Thank you. This, by the way," she says, pecking my lips, "is a good luck kiss from your son."

"And this," she kisses my cheek, "is from your mom."

"If you'd kissed me on the mouth twice, it would have been really bizarre."

She laughs. "So I should prepare myself for the same speech if I ever do that with an eighteen-year-old Jamie?"

"Definitely. How is he?"

We're still talking when the warning whistle is blown.

"I have to go."

"Okay. Oh, wait!"

She pulls out something from her pocket, drawing her hand out, and on her palm rests my chain.

"You forgot this."

"I was wondering where that was. Where did you find it?"

"Under your pillow."

I remove my ring and put it in the chain, leaning towards her as she fastens it around my neck.

"Are you nervous?" she asks me softly, her fingers grazing the sides of my face.

"More like eager."

She cups my face in her hands. "You'll be great. You've worked hard, you have an amazing talent and this is the best team in the gym. You work like a team should and you all have that insane passion to win this. And even though I can't jump up and down like everyone else, I'll be cheering for you."

"I live for your cheers."

She grins. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

I kiss her lips softly, lingering for a moment, before backing away and heading back to the court.

We get a last-minute pep talk from Whitey and soon enough, the final whistle blows for the game to start.

I look back at the bleachers. Haley waves at me and blows me a kiss. I smirk at her, give her a nod and position myself for tip-off.

Ravens get the ball.

But it's grueling. Two of the best teams in the state playing for a championship trophy? Everyone's out to win and it's a fucking battleground. No bloodshed, _yet_.

We're tied in the fourth quarter. 101-101.

With nine seconds left, Tim steals the ball from Cedarville. He dribbles down the court and dishes it to me. I throw it to Lucas, who passes it to Skills and with bated breath, we all stare at the ball as it soars through the air, hits the backboard, spins the rim and sinks through the net.

A three-pointer.

The buzzer goes off and the crowd leaps to its feet, roaring.

We win 104-101!

Fans are rushing to the court yelling, screaming and hugging us but there is only one person I want to see.

I push through the crowd and run up the bleachers. When I reach her, she's already on her feet. I hug her tight, careful of her leg.

"Oh my God!"

"We won!"

"You did so good!"

She kisses me. "Thirty-eight points, seven rebounds, five assists and four steals? Star quality, baby!"

I peer at her. She laughs.

"Mouth helped me out…I'm really proud of you!"

She kisses me again, hard and deep and with hunger, our lips and tongues locked together.

I release her lower lip as we draw apart. "How's your leg?"

She blinks, looking around fleetingly, as though remembering where we were. I had forgotten where we were.

"It's okay. My butt is a little numb, though."

"Your cute butt."

She laughs and kisses me some more.

"Duke is so lucky to have you," she tells me quietly. "I'm so proud of you."

Dim memories of grieving for my wife for two months fade in and out. Yet here she is.

I honestly feel like crying, weeping like a baby from gratitude and relief.

"Thank you," I tell her huskily, a little choked up.

She rubs my cheek gently with her knuckles. "For what?"

"For being here."

She presses her forehead to mine, kissing me softly and tenderly, hugging me again.

"Thank you for being here, too," she whispers.

I gently pull away from her after another long kiss, reluctantly.

I wipe away a tear that leaks from her eye. "I promised Mouth a few words after the game. Wait for me?"

"Always."

We kiss again, a short, simple kiss, and I turn towards the locker room.

* * *

The party is at Tim's house.

I'm on the couch with Haley and Lucas, the two bickering over who wrote the best work among Edgar Allan Poe, Mark Twain and Emily Dickinson.

Arguments over dead authors are never interesting to me, especially if it's two brainiacs like Haley and Lucas debating.

I switched off from listening a while ago when I heard one of them say "by and by". Or was it "by the by"? Whatever it was, it wasn't from this century.

Instead, I've been focusing on my drunken classmates, you know, the laughing drunks, the crying drunks, the talkative drunks. Before I got married and had a son, I was more of the obnoxious drunk than anything else.

I smile when I think about Jamie, and I take out my phone. My screensaver is a picture of Haley and Jamie, taken a few days ago. She'd just given him a bath and he was giggling as she dried him off. They're smiling, their foreheads pressed together, her eyes closed, his hand on her cheek. It's a perfect shot, almost looks like a cued photo.

My phone vibrates. Unknown number.

"Hello?"

_"Nathan."_

Shit. His mind fuckery is the last thing I need after today.

"Dad."

Haley and Lucas both look over at me.

"What do you want?"

_"I listened to the game. Congratulations, son." _

"Yeah. Lucas played, too."

I think I can hear his jaw ticking. There's nothing like mentioning Lucas or Karen to put Dan Scott in a rage.

_"Is he with you?" _

I look at Lucas.

"Yeah. Want to say hi?"

_"Don't get smart with me, Nathan,"_ he says crossly.

"Whatever, Dad. Is that it?"

_"How is my grandson?" _

"He's fine," I say while looking at Haley.

_"I heard about your wife." _

"Her name is Haley. And she's doing okay, thanks for your concern. Are we done?"

_"I just wanted to check in on you." _

I hold my phone tighter. "After months of silence."

_"Phone works both ways, Nathan."_

"Thanks for the call."

I hang up.

My relationship with my father has always been rocky and toxic at best.

"You okay?" Haley asks softly, her hand on my arm.

I breathe out heavily. "Yeah. He called about the game. And he asked about Jamie. And Lucas."

I look over her head at Lucas. He just shrugs indifferently and takes a sip of his drink. For Lucas, Dan Scott was just a sperm donor.

Haley is frowning. "First time he's asking about Jamie since he found out I was pregnant."

He was furious when we told him; he seemed to be in a quiet, violent fury that was waiting to be provoked. He scared Haley so much that she stepped behind me and bolted out of the house.

Were it not for my mom, I think I'd have hit him. After witnessing his reaction, my mom told him to leave, that it was over. As much as she was opposed to our marriage, she didn't condone his reaction. I haven't seen him since he left town.

I put my arm around her and kiss her cheek. "It doesn't matter. We did fine. We're doing fine. More than fine."

The issue of Dan Scott is consigned to oblivion.

We sit like that, talking about the game and her physiotherapy, her booted leg resting on a pillow atop the coffee table.

Peyton comes over and drags Lucas from the couch.

Mouth and Brooke pass by laughing hysterically. Maniacal, drunk laughter where even the mention of "pennies" can make you pee your pants easy.

"The day she realizes Mouth is the guy for her, that will be a good day," Haley says.

Tim slumps down next to Haley, laying his head on her shoulder.

"Hey," I flick him on the forehead. "Get your own wife."

"I want this one. She makes me mac 'n cheese," he whines drunkenly.

"Tim, if you don't want to lose a fucking eye, I suggest you hug the armrest right now," I tell him.

Haley laughs and Tim groans. He turns his head away from her shoulder and leans back on the couch.

"Just so you know, I'm better in bed than Nate."

Haley turns to me. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

"It's Tim, Hales. He says weird things. Why would you say something like that, you dick?"

I flick his forehead again.

"I listened to you and Haley when you—"

He starts snoring.

"Oh my God!" Haley yells.

"What the fuck, Tim!"


	24. Chapter 24

"Nathan!"

She's walking as fast as she can down the corridor, limping slightly, her face flush with happiness.

"No crutches! No boot!"

I lift her off the ground, twirling her around in the empty waiting room.

"Let me see."

I put her down, crouching to look at it.

"It feels so light. I almost fell back there!" she gushes, pointing to the doctor's office.

Standing, I peer closely at her worriedly. "You fell? Are you hurt?"

She laughs. "I'm okay. I just didn't think I _wouldn't_ feel my leg."

"Are you okay standing on it?"

"Yeah. How does it look?" she asks, showing the leg.

I crouch again, tracing the pale scars with my thumb.

"Nathan?

"Hm?"

"How does it look?"

I look up at her. Her eyes are shining with excitement.

"It looks good. Really fucking good."

I rub her leg and stand up. "I'm so proud of you, you know that?"

She throws her arms around me and kisses me. "Now I need you to take me home."

"Why?"

"Are you kidding? This leg hasn't seen a razor in months!"

"It's just a sprinkling of hair, Hales."

She slaps my arm. "A sprinkling? Have you really looked at it? I need to start prepping for prom."

"But you need to take it easy—"

"Nathan, I'm on a high. Don't kill it."

I knit our fingers together as we walk towards the parking lot. "I don't mean to, but I don't want you to do too much too soon."

"I'm not skating any time soon, husband."

I open the door for her, waiting for her to get in and circling to the driver's door.

"Hilarious, wife. I just want you to take it easy, okay? No running around."

"Nathan, have you ever seen me running?"

"Are you thinking of taking up jogging?"

Her laugh sounds like a snort. "Remember my short exercising phase with Pilates? How long did that last?"

"A week?"

"Four days."

She reaches for my hand. "I'm not going to do any crazy stuff and hurt this leg. Except dance at prom."

She grins at me and I squeeze her hand. I should stop killing her high.

"You sure?"

"About dancing at prom? Yeah. I wouldn't want to miss it."

"If you expect me to dance to _SexyBack_, don't get your hopes up. Crush those dreams."

I am a shitty dancer, dancing-like-I'm-having-a-seizure kind of shitty. I can move effortlessly down a basketball court but put some music on and my legs shut down.

Haley laughs. She knows better than anyone just how bad I really am at dancing.

"Why not? I'd like to see you bring sexy back."

"You know I have two left feet, Hales, especially if it's danceable music. In front of people, nevertheless. But if you want a private show, I'll bring sexy back just for you."

I wink at her and rub her thigh.

"I'll hold you to that!"

As graduating seniors, we get a lot of free time. Today is no different.

I take Haley to the mall for ice cream to celebrate. If I could, I'd take her on a hot balloon ride.

What are the chances she'd fall over the basket while looking down trying to spot our house? I think I poke fun at her clumsiness a little too much; she ends up smearing a glob of ice cream on my nose.

Since she came home, in between spending time with Jamie, going for classes, tutoring, being at work, physiotherapy and basketball, we haven't gotten to spend this much time together.

We don't do anything extraordinary but it's perfect.

We take cheesy photos at the mall's photo booth after Haley drags me around from store to store. We laze around on the beach, frolicking in the water and testing out her leg. It takes another hour for us to dry off enough for the drive home.

* * *

My mom is yelling from the living room when we get home.

"Jamie crawled!"

She's bouncing Jamie on her hip. "He did!"

"When?" I ask.

"This morning. Didn't you, honey?"

Haley reaches for Jamie. "We missed it? Did you get a video?"

"I did! He looked so cute. I'll get it."

"Sweetie, you crawled!" Haley shouts proudly, lifting Jamie over her head.

"Do we have to hide the pots and pans now, Jimmy-Jam?"

Jamie shrieks.

"We do? Yes, we do! Yes, we do! And then you'll be walking and running all over and—"

She squeaks, clamping her lips together and hugging him tight. "And then you'll be going off to college."

"I think you missed a few years there, Hales," I tell her.

Her eyes pop open and she stares at me for a few seconds, as if I have just declared that she's a fucking lunatic.

"Don't be so heartless, Nathan," she says finally.

My mom walks back into the living room, holding out the camera to me.

"After his nap, he was a little energetic."

I scroll to the video. Jamie is in deep concentration as he tries to balance on his little hands. He pulls his knees up, pushing forward thrice on his hands. He sways slightly and seems to rethink the process, because he drops on his belly, staring ahead. He looks like he's about to cry but my mom's voice in the background cheers him on.

When she yells, Jamie lifts his head up, that sweet sad face transforming into a toothy smile. I feel so proud.

Haley is tiptoeing next to me trying to take a look. I steal Jamie from her and hand her the camera.

"Hales, you realize you'd have to jump, with our baby in your arms for that matter, for you to see?"

"I'm short, Nathan. And I'm not growing any taller. Oh, just look at him! I can't believe we missed it! You crawled, you sweet baby!"

She kisses Jamie's cheek and focuses back on the video.

"Our baby is growing up, Nathan," she sniffles, wiping away a few tears.

"I missed this, just like I did his first tooth…"

She squeaks again, shaking her head.

"It's a good day. Your boot is off and Jamie just tried to crawl. Be happy," I tell her with a kiss to her lips.

"Your boot is off!?" my mom asks excitedly.

Haley lights up, the sorrow forgotten. "Yes!"

She shows off her leg.

"Nathan, go to the store. We need a razor and shaving cream. No, make it a waxing kit."

"Deb!"

She laughs. "I had to. Sorry."

She takes Jamie from my arms. "Isn't Grandma funny, pancake?"

Pancake?

* * *

Jamie's awake.

I don't really know how he has such perfect timing but like clockwork, he's up. This time, it's 3.15AM.

After changing him, I carry him from his crib to our bed. We don't go to the living room anymore because Haley's leg wouldn't have permitted that.

I rest him in her outstretched arms and crawl back into bed.

He looks up at her, whimpering, his eyes wet with tears.

"Hey, baby. You want Mommy to sing you to sleep?"

He whimpers again, flailing his arms to reach for her cheek. She takes his hand, holding it to her lips.

"Look at you, sweet baby James. You're perfect. Just perfect. Isn't he perfect, Nathan?"

The sight of the two of them like that is just fucking perfect.

I kiss her temple. "He is."

"And he's ours," she whispers before she starts to sing.

_"Good night big moon, sweet dreams baby…"_

His eyes are drooping and he's soon asleep. I lift him off her arms, laying him between us.

As I rub his foot, I think about the past few months. He's so little but he got me through the shittiest time of my life.

"Nathan?"

"Hm?"

"How are we going to do it?" she asks quietly, rubbing Jamie's hair.

"Do what?"

She's looking at me earnestly. "College. Work. Money. Where we'll live."

She glances down at Jamie. "Jamie."

"I honestly don't know, Hales, but we'll figure it out. We'll be fine."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

I lean over Jamie to kiss her. "It's the three of us against the world."

She laughs softly. "It is?"

"Most definitely."

I kiss her again. "Try not to worry so much. We have all summer to think about everything, okay?"

She nods, relaxing into her pillow. "I love you, Nathan."

"I love you, too. Go to sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

When I hear her soft, even breathing, I wrap my arm around both of them.

I have no fucking clue how we're going to do it all, but I would do anything for them. It's a promise I intend to keep.


	25. Chapter 25

I'm really nervous.

She told me she was ready ten minutes ago, yet here I am still waiting for her to come down.

I breathe out loudly for the millionth time, flexing my fingers on one hand, gripping the box holding her corsage tighter in the other.

Jamie is in his playpen in the middle of the living room, playing with his tiny basketball.

"Daddy's nervous, Jame."

He looks up at me, his grip slipping on the ball.

"Buh."

"I know, buddy. I shouldn't be but Mommy just has—"

"Hey."

I lift up my head quickly. Holy shit, she looks amazing.

Her hair is pulled loosely away from her face, tied over a shoulder, thin wisps of the golden strands curling about her face. It makes her look both innocent and striking. Haley has a natural beauty and glow to her; with or without makeup, she always looks beautiful.

Her gown is a black off-shoulder number with the neckline dipped a little low, showing off a bit of cleavage. The tight bodice accentuates her small waist, the rest of it floating out over her hips to almost sweep the floor. It screams 'elegant'.

She is simply breathtaking.

My mouth feels bone-dry as I walk slowly towards her, pulling out the corsage and securing it around her wrist.

"Orchid?" she asks, looking up at me with her gorgeous eyes.

I gulp. "Beautiful. Strong. Delicate. Graceful. Just like you." I kiss her neck. Vanilla.

"You smell fantastic."

"So do you," she says before kissing my exposed collarbone. Her warm breath tickles my throat and my skin burns like fire.

She giggles, making eye contact with me. "You okay?"

Swallowing nervously, I nod.

She seems a little taller tonight.

"Heels?"

She pulls up her dress; her toes are peeping out, painted a rich red, and the stark contrast against the black shoe makes her foot look sexier. My sexy girl.

"You look fucking gorgeous," I kiss her softly.

"You look so handsome, baby. We should buy you more suits and grey shirts," she whispers against my lips.

"Not blue?"

"I like grey on you. It makes you look like a runway model."

"I want pictures!"

We turn towards my mom, who is holding up the camera, her finger already on the button.

We pose for a couple of pictures alone, a couple with Jamie, and then take a video.

"Are those enough, Mom? We're running late."

She holds a hand over her mouth. "I can't believe you're leaving for college! I'm so proud of you two!"

She pulls us in for a hug and I look over at Haley, who looks like she's about to cry herself.

Jamie shrieks loudly. He likes attention. If he could walk, he would be climbing up my leg.

I pick him up from the playpen and throw him up in the air.

"We haven't forgotten you."

"Ggggg!"

"Doesn't Mommy look beautiful, Jame?"

"Mmmm!"

"I think so, too."

The camera is clicking repeatedly and I look back at my mom. "Jeez, Mom, we're not leaving tonight."

She sniffles and takes another shot. "I know. I just wish you were my little boy again. You used to follow me everywhere and hold on to my trousers and then you'd cry if I—"

"Mom!"

Haley laughs, taking Jamie from my arms. "Honey, I've already seen the many naked pictures of you as a baby."

I look over at my mom. She shrugs.

"She's your wife."

Haley laughs again, rubbing Jamie's back over her shoulder. "You really did not like clothes. Is that why Jamie kicks his legs around when we try to put on his pants? And why you like being shirtless all the time?"

She swings Jamie from side to side. He's laughing and gurgling.

"Not all the time. Just when I know you're around," I whisper in her ear.

"Mom, stop! You'll blind us."

"Okay! I'm done. Now you two go have fun."

After Jamie gets his good-night kisses and hugs from us, we finally leave.

I hold her hand as we walk down the driveway, running my thumb over it.

She looks questioningly at me. "Where are we going? The car is back there."

"You'll see. I promise it's not anything bad."

"It's not a donkey, is it?"

"Where would I find a donkey in North Carolina?" I laugh.

"Is it a magic carpet then? I hated Jasmine just for that."

"Do you think they had trouble breathing flying high like that? Or were those scenes deleted?"

She laughs, wrapping her hands around my arm and leaning on it. "You are such a goof."

I stop her as we approach the end of the driveway.

"What? What is it?" she asks worriedly.

I kiss her quickly. "I have a surprise for you and I just need you to do something for me."

"What is it?"

"Close your eyes."

"What?"

I place my hands over her eyes. "Close your eyes."

She giggles. I kiss her again, putting my hands down.

"Just for a minute. Close your eyes."

She gives me a wary look before shutting her eyes.

"Are we there yet?" she asks with a smile as we continue down the driveway.

"Just a few more steps. Am I walking too fast for you?"

"No."

I finally come to a stop, nervous about her reaction.

"Okay. So…I know it's not the most original idea but I wanted tonight to be special for you. Open."

I look at her expression as her eyelids flutter open. Her mouth puckers into an 'O' shape.

"Do you like it?"

She blinks and looks at me, her lips forming a huge smile.

"I love it!"

Throwing her arms around me, she kisses me hard. Her lips taste of strawberries.

"I'm glad. You ready?"

"I'm ready."

I help her up onto the white horse-drawn carriage. Once she's seated, I wrap a blanket around our shoulders and pull her closer to me.

"You are so getting lucky later," she whispers in my ear as our ride plops down the street.

* * *

When we get to the school, the party is already in full swing.

Music is blaring across the gym and the dance floor is packed with dancing couples.

At the edge of the front of the gym is a small dais, where Peyton and Mouth are deejaying.

"Is your leg okay?"

"Yeah. I'll save you a dance," she winks, taking my hand and leading us to our table.

We find Lucas, Brooke and Skills already there.

"Hey, guys," Haley greets them as I pull out the chair for her.

"See? That's how a gentleman does it. Not you two morons who can't even do that for me," Brooke spits out.

"Why should we? Mouth should be the one pulling the chair out for you," Skills says.

Brooke looks at him grimly, tightening her mouth. "You should do things like that for all women, not just the one you're dating."

Haley gasps. "Are you and Mouth dating?"

Brooke realizes what she's said and looks down at the tablecloth. "I-I didn't say that."

"You kinda did."

"No, I didn't! We're just two people who happened to want to come together to prom."

"Should I ask Mouth, then?" Haley raises her eyebrow at Brooke.

"No!"

"So you're dating Mouth? He's a great guy."

Brooke breaks into a smile. It doesn't last long and she quickly gets up.

"I…I have to go do…Student President stuff. See ya!"

And then she's off. We are left laughing at her reaction. It's not often that Brooke Davis is flustered over a guy. It must be serious.

"You want a drink?"

"Does this mean that you'll let me get high on spiked punch and dance my way into a wall?"

"Not more than a cup, Hales. You get drunk very easily."

She narrows her eyes at me. "I do not."

"You do," both Lucas and Skills say.

"See? Remember that time you got drunk and then threw up on my dad?"

"Why do you keep reminding me of that?"

"It's hard to forget. Kind of like how you keep blackmailing Lucas over here with that camping trip."

I turn to Skills. "Hey, you know anything about these two when they were kids and they took a camping trip?"

He's seated right across from Haley but his eyes are darting about everywhere, except on her. I turn back to her.

"Seriously? Even with Skills? What's so bad that even nine years later it's taboo mentioning it? Were you attacked by a goat or something?"

They all laugh nervously.

Getting up from my seat, I wag a finger at her as I walk away from the table. "You know your mom loves me, Haley James. Next time they're in town, we'll have a chat."

"Good luck with that. Only Ka—"

"Haley!" Lucas scolds.

"Is she chaperoning tonight?" I grin maliciously at Lucas, rubbing my hands together.

"Do you want a bleeding nose to go along with that stupid grin?" he snarls.

At the refreshments table, I pour punch into two cups, sipping mine to check for booze. Of course it's already spiked.

"You look tasty."

Oh, fuck.

Sighing, I spin around to face her. Her eyes look a bit glazed over.

"Rachel. Already drunk?"

"Nah. Just getting myself in the mood. Can I have one?" she asks, gesturing to the cups.

"There's the ladle," I suggest.

"I don't know whether to lick you or put you in my pocket," she purrs as she pours herself a drink.

Well, I think it's a purr but I guess because she's drunk, it sounds like a kitten that's just been dunked in water.

I shudder visibly, walking away from her. She's right on my heels.

"What do you want, Rachel?"

"You."

She's never been shy when it comes to hitting on me. Even in front of Haley.

"Never gonna happen. Find some junior crashing to deflower."

Spotting Haley looking at us, I smile at her and she smiles weakly in return.

"Is wifey jealous of me?" she says sloppily.

I snigger loudly.

"If you get crowned king, I'll let you do naughty things to me."

Jesus.

"Pass."

We're now already at the table.

"Hey, cripple."

What the fuck?

"Quit being such a bitch, Rachel," I snap.

She lifts her cup at us, pointing to us with her forefinger. "Someday you'll all be washing my cars, cleaning my pools and trimming my hedges."

"I think you should visit the salon for that last part," Haley drawls.

Rachel sneers and walks away, unsteady on her feet.

Turning to Haley, I laugh.

"You naughty girl," I say incredulously.

"I told you I have a wicked mind."

"So wicked."

She nips at my neck. "Wanna hear a little more?"

"Y'all just nasty freaks," Skills says.

"They're absolutely disgusting," Luke adds.

* * *

She feels tense. I know where her mind is.

"You are the most beautiful girl in the room, Haley Scott. The most beautiful girl in the world," I tell her.

"Yeah?" she asks shyly.

Sometimes her insecurities show. She's told me she's felt like 'a dowdy girl when buxom cheerleaders like Rachel throw themselves at me'.

If she could only see herself the way I see her, she wouldn't torture herself like this. She's perfect.

"You are a bajillion times the person she is."

"A bajillion?" she giggles.

"A bajillion."

"Excuse me," Principal Turner taps the mike. "It's time to announce prom king and queen. I know you're all dreading hearing me give a speech, so I won't."

There's laughter across the room. I had suggested to Hales to nominate her, but she threw a fit worth remembering.

The football captain and his girlfriend are crowned king and queen.

Haley pulls at my hand as she drags me to the dance floor.

"Hales, what's the rush?"

"No rush. They've already had their first dance and now I want mine."

"Could you be any more competitive?"

"Easily. Isn't this great, baby? A high school tradition with all our friends here," she says, snaking her arms around my neck, her eyes wide and bright.

"You look happy," I grin.

She laughs, and then her eyes start glistening. "I am. I'm happy right now, Nathan. I'm happy to be home, I'm happy that I'm dancing at prom with my husband, and I'm happy that I have a son waiting for me at home."

She does look happy. If it takes a toothbrush or a dance to make her happy, I would do anything for this girl.

She brushes a kiss across my lips, then lays her head on my chest. I hold my wife tighter and sway us slowly to the music, to that perfect beat for me not to crush her toes.

* * *

"Yo, bro! You and your shorty comin'?" Tim shouts, slapping my shoulder.

"Coming where?"

Haley and I are back at our table after dancing along to two more songs.

I'm massaging her foot; she said it felt a little sore and the heels didn't make it very easy for her to stay on her feet for too long. Even after Nick gave her the green light to remove the boot, it's not at one hundred percent.

"Afterparty at my house!"

Haley laughs. "I don't think I can party with this leg."

"We don't have to go. Besides, I remember someone said something about doing something later."

I wink at her.

"You have plans, Nate? And you didn't tell me?"

"Because they don't involve you, Tim."

"What are the plans? Skinny dipping?"

"No, Tim. It's not skinny dipping."

"Are we steal—"

"Tim, cut it out. It's none of that. We can't come to the party. Sorry. But have fun on our behalf."

"For shizzle!"

He grins, punches my shoulder and walks away quickly, dancing unevenly.

"Honey, you could win a dance contest against Tim."

"As long as he's drunk, I can do it."

We are still laughing when Peyton and Lucas come over.

"Garth Brooks?" Haley asks Peyton.

"Luke's idea."

"Since when are you a fan, Luke?"

"My first kiss was to that song. It was playing on radio at the café when it happened."

"It wasn't Haley, was it? You know I don't like to share," I ask.

Haley punches me.

"Gross, Nathan. My first kiss was with—"

She breaks off.

"With…?" I urge.

"Lisa Williams."

"Matthew Lewis."

"Hales?"

"Hm?"

She's avoiding my eyes.

"Who was your first kiss?"

"Who was _your_ first kiss, Nathan?" she counters squarely.

"Annie Sullivan's seventh birthday party. Seven Minutes in Heaven. Ingrid Jensen. Moved back to Sweden that summer."

"Really? A foreigner? Were women lining up for you when you were in the womb?"

Then she looks at me smugly. "Skills. River Court. We were seven. Saw a kissing scene in a movie and thought we'd try it out."

Skills? What is the deal with this guy and the women in my life?

I scan the room, locating him in the middle of the dance floor, having a dance-off with Fergie.

"How romantic. Started early, did you?"

"Don't be snarky. It's okay for you to be a man-whore at the same age, yet for me I'm too young?"

I laugh lowly. "Man-whore? And you're calling me snarky?"

She pulls her foot off my lap, looking at me dead on. "Wanna dance, Peyt? Girl power and all."

"Um…sure. I'll just go find Brooke." Peyton scurries off.

Haley puts her shoe back on, walking towards the dance floor.

I turn in my seat. "Am I still getting lucky later?"

"Dream on."

Lucas is chuckling.

"What's so funny, squinty?"

"Wow. Peyton has told me about Haley's jealous side when it comes to you but I've never seen it until now."

"Why would she be jealous? I was seven."

"Like the way you don't want to hit Skills right now? How many times do I have to say how alike you two are?"

He leans forward, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Just like you, Natey-Nate, she doesn't like to share."

After looking for her around the gym, I find her sitting back at the table, sipping punch.

"How insane would it have been if you were my first kiss?"

She laughs, twisting around in the seat to look at me. "I think Lucas hated your guts when we were seven."

True. It lasted for nine years.

"What would have been funny is running into you in school and thinking, isn't Lucas' best friend the girl who gave me my first kiss? How's that for getting on his nerves!"

She slaps my shoulder gently. "He wouldn't have known. He's still in denial that I'm a girl."

Laughing, I press my lips to her forehead. "As long as I'm the last guy you kiss, I'm happy."

"I can't guarantee that. Musicians have groupies, you know. Not forgetting the girls who'll be throwing themselves at you in college and when you're in the pros."

"Then let's make sure that doesn't happen. Yours are the only lips I want."

"Better be."

"Are you eyeing another man's lips, Haley Scott?"

"Well, there's that guy in the corner who has been giving me—"

The kiss lasts until we are so out of breath that our chests are heaving up and down.

"Home?" she asks breathlessly.

"Home."


	26. Chapter 26

We're at the quad at our usual table when I feel someone rest on my back.

"Nathan, have you seen the yearbook?"

"No."

She drops the navy book in front of me. "Apparently, we're the Cutest Couple and Best Bickering Couple. What the hell is this? Who came up with Best Bickering Couple? How can you be good at bickering, anyway?"

"Don't even remind me," Peyton groans. "We got Broodiest Couple and Most Complex Couple."

"Jeez."

Haley's still resting on me, her small fists propped on my back.

"What did Luke say to that?"

Peyton smirks. "I don't think he knows. I picked up his so he hasn't got to see it yet."

She claps giddily, her elbows pressing into my back. "Can I be the first one to sign it?"

"Sure."

Peyton pulls out the yearbook from her bag, passing it to Haley.

"Hales, please sit down. You're going to give me back problems."

She pushes off of me, swatting my back.

"You better not be saying I've gained too much weight, Scott, when you've been feeding me every chance you get," she says, plopping down next to me.

"I'm not. I'm hunched over and I'll need my back for college. This back is our moneymaker, you know."

She grins and pinches my cheek. "You say the corniest things."

"And why are you making it sound like I'm trying to fatten you up for slaughter? You were emaciated when you woke up from the coma."

"And now?"

I pinch her cheek. "Now? Now you look like a healthy teenage mother."

She laughs, burying her head in my shoulder.

As she's scribbling furiously in Luke's yearbook, I look through the one she'd placed in front of me.

"Have you seen this part about Brooke?"

Peyton snickers. "What a hoot, right?"

Haley looks over my arm. "What does it say?"

"Most Likely to be in Playboy."

"It does not!"

I point out the page to her.

Her eyes widen. "Has Brooke seen this?"

"Yeah. She was actually thrilled about it," Peyton says.

She takes out an apple from her bag.

"Seriously, Peyton? Can't you just cut it into pieces before school? Or settle for a banana? Or a peach?"

She shrugs and bites into it. Hard. Loud.

There's biting into an apple, and Peyton's is a special case of it.

"You mean the way she chews on apples like they're made of steel?" Haley asks distractedly.

I snigger at Peyton. "Exactly."

She scoffs at us.

"Whose yearbook is this?" I'm pointing to the one she'd placed in front of me.

"Mine," she murmurs, her face scrunched up in concentration in what she's writing.

"Haley, are you writing an essay?" Peyton asks.

She laughs and keeps writing. "I have a lot to say."

"Especially since he's going to be in New Jersey?" I ask her, flipping through the pages of the yearbook.

"What? What about New Jersey?" Peyton inquires, mouth full of apple.

I look up, realizing what I just said. Shit.

"Hm?"

"New Jersey. What about it?"

He didn't tell her?

"What?"

She chews and swallows quickly. "You said something about New Jersey. _'Especially since he'll be in New Jersey'_. Are you talking about Lucas?"

"Who?"

Have I just ruined a relationship?

She narrows her eyes at me. "Lucas. Your brother. My boyfriend. What does he have to do with New Jersey?"

"I didn't say that," I mumble.

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did," she insists firmly.

"I didn't!" I turn to Haley, just so I don't have to look at Peyton. She can be scary.

"Hales, do you have my yearbook?" I ask her nervously, watching Peyton from the corner of my eye.

She's staring at me with an almost murderous glare.

"It's in my bag. I wanted to be the first to sign it."

"What's with you and being first?"

"I'm your wife, Nathan. That doesn't scream 'first' to you?"

I open hers and write: _"Nothing else matters. You and me, to the ends of the earth, always and forever."_

I'm not very good at conjuring up sweet words to put to paper. I can say them out loud to her but writing? That's something else entirely. It seems easier saying it than writing it, yet it's just writing down what I'm thinking, you know?

She is good at writing them, though. All those love notes I've saved that she's always left for me since we started dating are proof enough. Yeah, ain't that a shocker? Nathan Scott a sucker for his wife's love notes.

What can I say? I'm whipped.

"Here you go!"

Brooke slaps an envelope on the table.

"What's this?"

"Printouts of prom pictures. You and Haley look great, but not as great as Mouth and me."

Before prom ended, we had taken group pictures.

"It's a digital world, Brooke. You didn't have to print them."

"They're more for Jamie's sake than yours. The technology when he is going to prom will be so advanced they'll probably be unable to read the shit on CDs and flash drives. His friends could have a good laugh at our outdated outfits."

At the mention of Jamie and prom, Haley groans.

"Haley doesn't like to think about Jamie growing up. Or being reminded of it," I answer to Brooke's puzzled expression.

"My godson will grow up eventually, Tutor Girl."

"Our godson. I don't know why you like hogging the godmother title so much, Brooke," Peyton says.

"Haley asked me to be godmother first."

"That's because you forced yourself into the bathroom when Jamie was having a bath."

"You can call dibs on him when I'm in New York, P. Sawyer."

We all look at her.

"New York?" I ask quizzically.

Brooke sighs, rolling her eyes dramatically. "My dream school is there?"

Do these girls swap notes on the most effective ways to roll their eyes?

"Oh," we all drawl out.

"What kind of friends do I have?"

She pouts, folding her arms across her chest.

"You never said what state the school was in," Peyton argues.

"I did!"

"No, you didn't."

Haley lifts up her hands in mock surrender. "In my defense, I was dead for two months so I didn't know what was going on."

I look at her. Lately, it has become her excuse when she's busted. "You really have got to stop playing that death card. It's getting old."

She smacks me on the arm.

"Dead or alive, you should know. I've been yapping about New York since junior year!"

"We get it, Brooke. You're mad. Let's move on."

"You are such a merciless bitch, Peyton."

"Takes one to know the other."

I lean in and whisper to Haley, "And they say we are the Best Bickering Couple?"

They argue back and forth until the subject drifts to graduation and the summer, Brooke dashing off after Mouth when she spots him at the far end of the quad.

I space out when Peyton and Haley start to discuss some classic movie, snippets about symbolism and motifs passing me by.

"Can you walk me to class?" Haley asks me a while later, gathering her books.

"Yeah. Which one do you have now? Literature?"

She laughs. "You knowing my class schedule by heart would be considered weird by some."

"I consider it creepy," Peyton says.

"Well, I think it's sweet," Haley replies. "And anyway, I know his by heart."

"You're both weird."

"Not more than the broodiest couple in school," Haley teases. "Ready?"

I spot Luke coming up to the table. "Hang on. Luke is here."

"You thrive on drama, don't you?" she sniggers.

"As long as it's Luke's drama."

"Me, too," she says just as quietly, winking at me.

I lay a hand over my chest pretentiously. "I'm so glad we found each other."

"_Muchachos_."

He slumps down next to Peyton, picking up his yearbook. "Mine?"

"Yeah. Haley just signed it. I want to be the last one," Peyton says, looking at me closely.

Knowing her, she'll ask him about New Jersey while I'm still there, just for fun. No, thank you.

"Why?" I ask her, wanting to drift her attention away from that blunder.

Through gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, she says, "Because."

"Because what?"

"None of your business."

"Are you planning on sketching his penis in there?"

Haley laughs.

"What the fuck, Nate?" Luke yells.

"I'm just saying. Peyton is a little mental and she probably wants to write or draw something sinful in it. Better hope your kids never come across it."

They both sneer at me. These two are fun to tease.

"So, Luke…" Haley's voice sounds a little too sweet.

"Yeah?" He's looking through the yearbook.

"Has anyone mentioned anything to you about the yearbook?"

He looks up and squints. "Some people were congratulating me."

He shrugs. "I don't know what the hell that was about."

"Did they say anything else?"

"No. They mostly just laughed."

Peyton is staring at Haley, who looks like she's about to burst.

"Broodiest Couple! Most Complex Couple!"

"You just ruined the surprise, Haley," I jokingly scold.

He looks puzzled. "What?"

"You and Peyton were voted Broodiest Couple and Most Complex Couple."

"Really?"

She nods.

"Huh. Isn't that something."

Haley rolls her eyes, picking up her bag. "See you guys later."

I reach for her as she's standing from the bench.

She pokes me on my side. "Will you stop it? I'm free of crutches."

"Habit. And by the way, just because you're not using crutches doesn't mean you'll ditch your physiotherapy sessions. I've noticed you've been dodging them. If I have to drag you over there, I will."

"Whatever," she says, wrapping an arm around my waist.

I groan in exaggeration as we walk towards our lockers. "I think you bruised my ribs back there, Hales."

She rubs my back. "Don't worry. If you become incapacitated, I can use this butt you love so much to pay our bills. I've been working on some shake-ya-moneymaker moves for the stripping job I might have to take."

"Can I have a sneak preview?"

"How much are you willing to spend?"

"Don't I have special—"

"Nathan Scott! Thanks a lot!" he bellows from across the quad.

I smile sheepishly. "Oh, man. Why didn't he tell her?"

"Somebody's in trouble," Haley sings.

"You better run, you little shit!" he shouts, pointing a finger at me.

Grabbing his books and bag, he starts walking fast towards me, students parting to give him way.

"It was nice knowing you!" I shout to her over my shoulder as I sprint into the building.


	27. Chapter 27

"They're not coming?"

She runs the brush through her hair one more time. "Nope."

"Just them or everyone else?"

"Everyone else."

I walk over to her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. My God, her family can be such a disappointment!

"I'm sorry."

Closing her eyes, heaving out a deep breath, she says, "It's okay. I've got you and Jamie."

"Sure you'll be okay? I can leave a guilt trip-worthy message on your mom's cell."

She laughs and pats my arm. "I'll be fine. I doubt she even has it."

I kiss her temple, releasing her. "When was the last time you talked to them?"

They haven't come to see her but they called. Unfuckingbelievable.

"A few weeks ago. Have you seen my other shoe?" she asks, holding up one red heel.

"Did they call or did you call them?" I kneel to check under the bed, seeing a streak of red from afar underneath her bedside table.

"They called. Can you see it?"

I drag it out, passing it to her.

"Thanks," she says, supporting herself on the footboard as she puts them on.

"How do I look?"

"Like a sexy valedictorian."

Laughing, she grabs her purse from the bed. "There's a look for that?"

"You just pioneered it," I grin, pocketing my wallet.

She looks beautiful.

"I never considered myself a trendsetter but I'll think it over. Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Let's go, then. Wouldn't want to be late on my last day!"

Downstairs, Jamie shrieks when he sees her, his arms reaching out for her.

"You look so handsome, sweetie. Look at you! Just like Daddy!"

He really does look cute in the graduation cap and gown.

Brooke made it for him, a prototype for her children's clothing collection. Jamie already has his first job.

"Won't he be too hot in that?" I ask her.

Summer's here in full force and it's been getting obscenely hot every day.

"If it gets too hot, we can get him out of it."

"It's very progressive of you to present your son naked in public."

"No," she protests, looking mortified. "He's wearing something underneath."

"A diaper?"

"He has a vest and shorts on. Aunt Brooke will be so happy to see you wearing her gift, little man."

Jamie lets out a loud laugh when she bites his cheek.

"Honey, can you grab our gowns from the closet?" she says, making funny faces at Jamie.

"They're already in the car."

From outside, my mom honks repeatedly.

"Hales, we gotta go. Weren't you the one complaining about not being there on time?"

"That was before I saw Jamie in his outfit again. I can't imagine seeing him like this at his high school graduation."

"Hales…"

"I swear I'm not about to start weeping."

She holds him on her hip, looking around the living room. "Do we have everything? Diapers? Formula? Toys? Camera?"

I take her hand, dragging her towards the door. "Everything is already in the car. Can we go now?"

* * *

"I wish I could sit here," she sighs from beside me.

Since she's valedictorian, she has to sit up on the stage with the faculty. I'm proud of her but I don't envy that seating arrangement. She doesn't get to close her eyes for a minute when the Vice Principal is giving one of his particularly long and boring speeches. It's not the first time I've wished I were at the dentist rather than having to listen to him.

But Haley being Haley, I wouldn't be surprised if she asked him for a copy of his speech for nostalgia's sake.

"I'll make sure Jamie claps and whistles along with everyone else before and after your valedictory speech."

Her laugh is electric as she leans on me.

"Wouldn't it have been funny if I'd gone into labour while I was up there, though?" she asks, lifting her head up, chin propped on my shoulder.

"Thank God for my swimmers."

She laughs again, crossing one leg over the other. "I feel better going to college when Jamie's a little older."

Turning back to me, I catch a whiff of her perfume.

Suddenly, I feel lost. It's like some cheesy scene where the camera is focusing on just her, an eighties ballad playing in the background.

All I can see is her sweet, beautiful face. Shiny lips move, the beauty spot right below her lower lip visible and dancing as she speaks. My eyes wander upwards to her nose, the adorable nose that she crinkles when she's trying to figure something out. On to her large, remarkable brown eyes, which are twinkling and peering straight into mine.

My heart mends a little more at being here in this moment with her. The mental picture of being on these grounds waiting for my diploma without her is a little too brutal to even give a second thought to.

"—don't you think so?"

I blink, focusing on what she's saying. "What?"

She grins, taking my large calloused hand in her small delicate one.

"I said, it makes sense to get Jamie out of his gown now, don't you think so?"

It's only ten in the morning and there's a burning heat, despite being under a tented shade.

"Yeah. It's good practice for his future shirtlessness," I smirk.

"Don't even," she scolds as she removes Jamie's hat.

"What? He can't understand what I'm saying."

She looks pointedly at me as she slips his right arm through the armhole of the gown. "Can't he, Nathan? Can't he?"

"Why do you have such a big bag, anyway?" I ask as she stashes the outfit in her purse.

"Emergency stuff."

"What emergency stuff? Have you seen the size of Jamie's bag?"

"_My_ emergency stuff," she stresses.

"Tampons?"

Her face turns crimson. It's so damn cute that she can be candid about some things and completely shy about others.

"No," she whispers hoarsely, clasping her hands together and uncrossing her legs.

Somebody's nervous.

"If it's not boxes of ta—"

"No! I have—", she pulls the purse to her lap, unzipping it and rummaging through the monstrous hole, "—a hairbrush, moist towelettes, water, hand sanitizer, crackers, umbrella—"

"Can I have one?"

"Have one what? Cracker?"

I chuckle. "No. Water. I forgot to bring any."

"You're lucky you married me."

"Don't I know it."

She twists the cap off for me, reaching into the bag for another bottle.

"Your emergency stuff is like…two out of all those things. Most of that stuff has something to do with Jamie."

"Better safe than sorry," she grins, pushing off the chair.

Centering Jamie on my lap, I look up at her as she adorns the blue graduation outfit, adjusting the gold sash around her neck. She's graduating summa cum laude. And her family is not here to see it.

Their fucking loss, I think.

"Hey, I really am sorry that your family couldn't make it."

"It's okay."

"Why couldn't your parents again?"

"They're in Oregon at some festival."

"What about your brothers and sisters?"

She shrugs, reaching under the bright blue gown to straighten her dress. "Viv called. The others sent e-cards."

E-cards? Like she's a colleague? How maddening can this family I married into be?

She places a finger to my lips before I can say anything.

"It's all good, Nathan. I swear."

She sits back on the chair, rubbing a hand on Jamie's tummy. "My family's already here."

I just wish more of it were.

"Is anything crooked?" she asks, touching the tassel.

"You look great," I respond, reaching to tuck a few errant strands of hair behind her ear. "I'm really proud of you."

"Thank you," she says, leaning over to kiss me. "I'm proud of you, too."

"Even without honours?" I tease.

"Even without honours," she smiles, kissing me again.

Then she's laughing, Jamie tugging at the sash.

"Come here, pancake," she coos as she picks him up.

Again with the pancake? Does he resemble one somehow? He looks nothing like it. Is it supposed to be adorable? Why does it bother me so much?

Because it could stick, and it could be his name for the rest of time.

_Hey, Pancake!_

_We're going to Pancake's house._

_Did you see what Pancake did?_

That nickname will cause a lot of reactions on the playground. And the school hallways. And the workplace.

If it's not nipped in the bud, he could be one of those kids who are pushed around in the sandbox or stashed in lockers by kids twice his size.

I know preschool is a few years away but this is my son. A pancake. Wouldn't it bother you about your child, too?

Once, it's endearing. Twice? It's a fucking disaster waiting to happen.

"How's the strategizing coming?" I ask instead.

"Good, actually. I've found some more apartments we can look at," she smiles, standing Jamie on her lap.

"Are they affordable?"

"A few of them are. There's this one that sounds perfect…"

We strategize until the grounds are buzzing with people, the empty seats now packed with rows of about-to-be graduates in blue gowns and their families.

She plants a kiss on Jamie's cheek before giving him to me, gathering her things when we spot Martha Schubert approaching to claim the seat next to me.

"How unfair. She gets to sit next to my son and husband?"

"Would you rather it was Rachel?"

"Don't tempt karma, Nathan," she snorts. "That's how people are upgraded from coach to business class."

I laugh as she leans down to kiss me.

"I love you. See ya," she says before she walks away.

"Bye."

"Haley's hubby, right?" Martha asks as she drops onto her seat, chewing gum loudly.

I've only talked to her once. I was enquiring on who was the head of the Tutor Centre so that they could organize other tutors for Haley's tutees during the time she was restricted to bed rest. The bed rest that lasted three days.

"Yeah. Martha, right?"

She pops her gum, looking around lazily. "Yeah."

We leave it at that.

Jamie is sitting quietly on my lap, his small fists gripping my gown on both sides, looking around curiously at everybody.

He has quite the personality. Sometimes he can be really quiet, and sometimes he can be quite a handful. I can't wait to see how my little guy turns out years down the line.

Lucas is making his way down the row and when Jamie sees him, he cries out with recognition.

"Hey, man. Hi, Jame. Come say hi to Uncle Lucas, you handsome devil."

Jamie grins and raises his arms to Lucas.

"Didn't think you'd be the one late for graduation, magna cum laude."

"I was around with the family. I met Allan Alin, by the way. Nice guy. Funny name, though."

He makes a funny face at Jamie. "Allan Alin! Allan Alin! Isn't that just a funny name, Jimmy-Jam?"

I look around the grounds as if trying to spot this Allan Alin. "You met him? He's here?"

Lucas shakes his head. "He teaches here, Nate. Of course he's here."

I'd never even heard of him before my mom mentioned him to me. And I was too chicken to ask around after she did.

I don't want to ask but I have to ask. "What's he like?"

"He really likes your mom, Nate."

Just what I wanted to hear without sounding like I was begging for details.

I wave to Brooke as she walks bouncily to the front, and receive a vicious glare from Peyton as she sinks into her chair at the end of our row. The alphabetical seating has Tim two rows behind us and the other guys several rows ahead of us.

"There's a party later on at the beach. You coming?" he asks, bouncing Jamie on his knee.

"Yeah. Last chance to see you in water."

"What?"

"You never swim, either at the beach or the house. Do you have a big hairy mole on your back or something?"

He glowers at me. "Have you ever seen a big hairy mole on my back in the showers?"

The guy in front turns to look at us over his shoulder. Dylan Peters, football quarterback.

"Luke, we may be graduating but you shouldn't ruin my reputation."

"That you're a smart alec who got married at sixteen to his brother's best friend and wants to see a big hairy mole on said brother's back that he had been looking for in the showers?"

"Jesus, stop making it sound like I leer at you in the locker room."

"That's Tim's job when it comes to you, Nate."

Jamie starts to whimper, reaching his chubby hands out for me.

"Uncle Lucas make you mad, too, pancake?"

What the f…

* * *

Haley coos while lifting Jamie off my arms. She kisses his cheek and lifts him high, then turns to me.

"It was so sweet of you to carry him when taking your diploma. I think I saw a hundred cameras flashing!"

"I couldn't leave him alone on the seat, Hales."

She rolls her eyes.

"Besides, he enjoyed being centre of attention. I swear I saw him smirk and give a little wave."

She laughs, lifting Jamie high again. "I hope your mom got a picture. I have to see that Scott smirk."

I grin at her. "He's been shrieking like crazy for you. Your speech was phenomenal, by the way."

She's beaming. "Phenomenal, huh?"

"Phenomenal. But it can't top what you said that night after prom and when you did that thing with your tongue—"

Blushing, she slaps my shoulder. "Nathan!"

I laugh and hold her close to my side. "Later, then."

"Nate?"

We turn at the sound of my mom's voice.

The man she's with is a few inches shorter than me, lanky, clean-cut, short silver hair, glasses, eyes the colour of mahogany. A distinguished gentleman, you could say.

"Nate, I'd like you to meet Allan. Allan, this is my son, Nathan, his wife Haley and my grandson, Jamie."

"It's good to finally meet you. Deb has told me so much about you," he says genuinely, articulately, eyes crinkling, accompanied by a strong handshake.

She has? I only knew his name. Well, it's my fault for not wanting to listen to the rest of it.

"You too, Haley. Good things. Married in high school? You don't see that anywhere."

The three laugh but I can only manage a tight smile. Haley pokes me subtly with her elbow.

Can you blame me? If my mom is introducing me to him, it means it's serious. And I just want to be sure that he's not a fishy character.

He puts an arm over her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "And she's always bragging about Jamie."

So far, he's friendly-looking and likeable.

Unless he does something that proves me wrong.

"What was that back there? She talked to you about him?" I interrogate Haley as we walk back to the car.

"Yeah. By the way, she'll be driving to the café with Allan."

"When?"

"She just told me."

"No, not that. When did she talk to you about him? And how come you never told me?"

I open the back seat and she straps Jamie in, removing her cap and leaning her back on the closed door.

"We talk, you know. Women in solidarity. She really likes him, Nathan. And I know you like him, too," she wags a finger at me.

"Don't go planning a wedding already."

She rolls her eyes.

"You need to accept that your mom is a woman with needs," she says, taking her purse from me to put away the cap.

"Hales."

Jesus, needs?

"What? It's the truth."

"So if I died, you'd have needs, too?"

"Nathan."

"Since we're on the subject."

"Don't say things like that. It makes me really nervous. Besides, your father isn't dead. They're just divorced."

"Would you get married again?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

I would choke on my food if I were eating. "Maybe?"

"I'm joking, honey. I'll love you beyond forever."

"So I shouldn't be worried about haunting this earth and seeing you in another man's arms?"

"You are quite a jealous man, Nathan Scott."

"Damn straight. But just so you know, I have needs, too."

"I can't tell whether you're serious or not but I hope you're joking. You are joking, right?"

"Maybe."

"I'm changing the subject before I start crying. What were we talking about?"

"Allan Alin."

"Right. From what your mom told me, he sounds like a good guy. Hopefully he doesn't turn out to be a pervert or a wife beater."

My eyes widen at the possibilities.

She laughs, putting her arms around my neck.

"Relax. I have a friend who's a P.I. I can ask him to dig around."

"Since when do you have a friend who's a P.I.?"

"I met him at rehab."

"You were not in rehab, Hales."

"But I've always wanted to say that. Physiotherapy is kind of like rehab, anyway. Can you imagine he was shot three times? One on his arm and the other two in his stomach."

"Ouch."

"Yeah," she shudders.

"Speaking of therapy, remember when I said I'd drag you to your physiotherapy sessions?"

"Yeah?" she asks suspiciously.

"It starts tomorrow. Don't think I haven't noticed you rubbing that leg frequently."

She pouts. "But…"

"No buts, Hales," I say firmly, opening the passenger door for her.

"You're going back. What time is Karen expecting us for lunch?"

She looks down at her watch. "In about an hour. Why?"

"How about a family-style ice cream outing before that? It's hot and it's a special day. We might as well have dessert first."

"Sounds perfect," she says softly, turning up her face to kiss me, the tip of her tongue slipping between my teeth to touch mine.

"Are you happy?" I ask her as we pull apart for breath.

Her hands around my waist tighten, her giddy smile making me feel warm all over.

Definitely not from the heat.

A sense of tranquility washes over me as I look at her.

My wife, my other reason to be.

She rubs her nose against mine, placing a kiss to the side of my mouth.

"Very."


	28. Epilogue: Chapter 28

This was the longest year of high school. Longest year of my so-far life.

Losing my wife, believing for months that she had died, discovering that I didn't lose her after all…

It has been a really fucked up couple of months.

I can't hang around with you for too long because we're all at the River Court, catching up before we head our separate ways for the summer. And I want to get you up to speed with what's happened since we graduated.

For one, the police exhumed the body of the woman we buried. Can you believe that? It sounds like something out of a crime novel.

Dental records would be the way to go in identifying her, they said. They've had to call the families of the deceased and the missing but so far they have no leads.

At seeing her headstone, Haley was quite touched. She wants to keep it for future reference. She's a really strange girl, that one.

An acceptance letter from Stanford came for her in the mail the other day. She got a merit scholarship from Duke but a partial scholarship from Stanford.

I told you my girl is super smart, didn't I?

Even with my scholarship to Stanford, she chose Duke over Stanford. Giving up her dream so that I can go after mine? I really love that girl. I wait for the day I stay home with Jamie as she's on the road on tour, going after her dreams.

She'll be in the studio recording for the charity album this summer. I really am thrilled for her. There's nothing as satisfying as doing something you love. She loves music and she should take the chance to do it professionally.

After negotiations, her contract now says she can only perform at particular events hosted by Epic Records. It's a much better deal than binding her to five years of musical slavery.

The only catch is that they can call her up whenever, as the concerts aren't exactly planned out for the next year. They could happen in the next five years or it could be one concert per year for the next twelve years.

As you know, I got a full athletic scholarship from Duke. It's been my dream to play for the Blue Devils and I'll make sure I work my ass off to stay on the team.

But before that one, I have my current job at Uncle Keith's garage and it will help us save up for an apartment off-campus. Haley will also be getting some money from the sales of the album.

After further strategizing, we decided to start apartment hunting this weekend; that way, there'll be enough time to find a good location and move in fully before school begins.

Peyton got accepted to UNC Chapel Hill and she'll be majoring in Studio Art. At least she's not so far away for regular visits with Haley.

She also got a summer internship at a web comic in L.A., and together with Brooke, they'll be heading down there the day after tomorrow. She didn't tell me; I heard it from Haley.

The girl can hold a grudge for a good while and I think this one is misdirected at the wrong person. I'm not the one leaving for New Jersey, am I?

I can always blackmail her by blocking visitations with Jamie…

Brooke, party girl extraordinaire, will be crashing with her parents in L.A., and Peyton has agreed to stay with her.

She'll be lounging in the California sun until school in the fall.

But she did get accepted to Marist College in New York as a Fashion Design major. She couldn't stop talking about it for days. She's still talking about it.

Mouth is off to Chicago for internship at a TV station. He got a full tuition scholarship to Ohio University for Sports Broadcasting, a dream come true for him.

Jimmy, along with Tim, will be attending community college, but I don't think it bothers any of them to not leave Tree Hill. Junk and Fergie are both going to Oklahoma University.

Skills applied to be a basketball coach at a local kids' camp for the summer. He got a partial athletic scholarship to University of Maryland. We're both looking forward to playing against each other on the court in college. Whoever wins the first game has to…Well, we still haven't decided on what the loser should do.

My brother Lucas got an internship at a publishing house in Newark for the summer, and he's so excited about his acceptance to Rutgers that he's already planning for life at campus.

He's actually already packed up most of his stuff in boxes, living off them as if he's leaving tomorrow rather than in three months.

I wonder how Peyton's taking his overexcitement. I'll have to ask Haley. Or frustrate him so much that he just tells me himself.

He's still a little pissed that I told Peyt about New Jersey. Match made in Heaven if you ask me.

Who did I forget? Let's see. Maybe it's this little monkey playing with the collar of my shirt as I watch his mom trying to make a free throw.

Jamie is mastering the crawl and soon enough, he'll be on his hands and knees all over the house. Yesterday, he crawled from the kitchen doorway to the foot of the stairs. That's five miles in baby distance!

And luckily for him, his mom no longer uses crutches. And the pots and pans have been moved out of reach.

Which reminds me that I need to round up the guys for baby-proofing the house…

"Luke!"

* * *

**-Read the Sequel: The Darkness before Dawn-**


End file.
